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Saturday, February 26, 2011
Praise the Lord
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Wednesday, February 23, 2011
We are getting there
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Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Just call me "Mommy"
This coming August I will have been employed by my school for four years. I was hired the March before I graduated in '08. In my interview, I remember my boss asking me if I was willing at all to coach any sports when I worked there. Blindly (thinking coaching had to be a breeze since I love playing sports) I said "yes". Little did I know I would be the Junior Varsity coach (5th-8th grade girls) for three years in a row of both volleyball and softball. At first, I accepted my fate with sheer delight and eager anticipation. The first year was the honeymoon period. There were some tears, some emotions, I jumped up and down like an idiot the TWO times my little volleyball team had a victory and I grinned like a proud parent when my softball team actually made an out. The second year was just like the terrible "twos." Parents were mad because I would push too hard for their child to do better. Some parents were mad because their kid did not play as much as another kid. It was the hardest year ever. I vowed I was done, I would never do it again. But, I suppose like any mother changes her mind once her baby gets out of a difficult stage, once spring came around again...I longed for the sound of softballs in mitts and the metal clang of the softball bat. So, I took the plunge and coached one more time. Year three is something akin to being a mother of three. One kid is a teen who has attitude galore and you wonder how this could be your child. Another one is about 8 and thinks they know EVERYTHING about life. The baby of this family is only two and still is not potty trained. That is my life. Just today, during our first game of the season, I had one girl crying because of something another girl said. I had one girl who lost her mitt at the field two weeks ago and just now expected me to find it. I had two girls who came without shoes (and then left their shoes at the field after the game). AND, once the game was over, I had two backpacks and (of course) countless other artifacts of girlhood strewn around the dugout. I looked at my assistant coach and sighed. "Just call me Mommy Withee."
A Very Married Valentine's Day...
This is my 5th Valentine's Day with the same sweet guy in my life (2 dating, 3 married). It is funny. When we are kids and teenagers, we assume that Valentine's Day must ooze with romance and be filled with hearts and flowers, each year topping the next. So, it suprised me when I found myself quite content with this year's Valentine's Day celebration. We did nothing. Now, my students, who are in the years when romance is about as useful as a screen door in a battleship, were perplexed beyond words that I had not been showered with new diamonds and my desk had not been smothered with roses. I never thought I would get to this point, but I have. Ryan and I are trying to remodel a bathroom and save money in the bank for a rainy day. So, this year, I really and honestly wanted nothing but a new toilet and vanity. If that makes me crazy so be it. But, in reality, I think what that makes me is VERY MARRIED. And you know what....I LOVE IT. Happy late Valentine's Day!
Saturday, February 12, 2011
It's a Thankless Job....but Somebody has to do it.
I was watching an old television show the other day. The particular episode I was watching was about a school teacher who went out and purposely found a teenager who had never been to school before and made him go to school and learn. It was a difficult process for the student and for the teacher. However, at the end, the student stands up in front of the WHOLE town and tells everyone how "Miss King" (The teacher) changed his life and how without her, he wouldn't "know nothin' about nothin'." The episode ended and I found myself saying, "yeah right...like that would ever happen."
Ever since I was about 10 years old, I knew I wanted to be a teacher. I loved school myself (I know...nerd alert!!!) so I figured what could be better than getting to be in school everyday and be paid for it. I never realized though how much the American teenager can drain someone of energy and make you fear your future at the same time. There are those days, where I have taught about the "Battle of the Bulge" four times in a row and had the same silly comments made or weird questions asked, that forces me to wonder how I could have possibly thought this was fun. However, you have those days where you teach a lesson and the students have that "lightbulb" moment and it all becomes worth it again.
So, I may not be the kind of teacher than inspires any "you changed my life speeches" but its the job I love and I will do it until God moves me to do something new.
Ever since I was about 10 years old, I knew I wanted to be a teacher. I loved school myself (I know...nerd alert!!!) so I figured what could be better than getting to be in school everyday and be paid for it. I never realized though how much the American teenager can drain someone of energy and make you fear your future at the same time. There are those days, where I have taught about the "Battle of the Bulge" four times in a row and had the same silly comments made or weird questions asked, that forces me to wonder how I could have possibly thought this was fun. However, you have those days where you teach a lesson and the students have that "lightbulb" moment and it all becomes worth it again.
So, I may not be the kind of teacher than inspires any "you changed my life speeches" but its the job I love and I will do it until God moves me to do something new.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
A clean desk...
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Saturday, February 5, 2011
No words needed
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It's Saturday Morning ....and its 3 a.m.
Got Ryan off to work this morning for the truck delivery (which happens every Saturday morning at the same un-holy hour of 4 a.m. which means he has to be walking out the door of our house by 3:30). Normally, I just go straight back to bed and sleep till about 8:30 or so. But, today, for whatever reason...I CANNOT get back to sleep. So, thus far, in the hour I have been up I caught up on all my blogs that I read, I signed up for a couple of free samples of new products on my money-savers blog, I fed the dog, took the dog out, and here I am writing on my own blog.
Later today I need to make a trip to the store. There are those things that come up that you need to buy, but never remember to buy when you are actually AT a store. My list today includes the following
1. Hurricane lamp. Last week we had a really wild storm. At our house, for whatever reason, when it rains even a little bit, my power ALWAYS goes off. So, last week I raced home from work (because I could SEE it rolling in). I hurried and let the dog out (because he refuses to go outside in the rain), made some kind of quick dinner so we could at least eat before the power went off, AND I ran to the hall closet and pulled out all the candles I had and lit them in anticipation of the power outage. So, needless to say, we enjoyed the rainstorm in a living room that smelled like Christmas Cookies/coffee candle/frosted cranberry/and sandalwood (I had four candles but none of which were the same fragrance).
2. Floor cleaner. I, for some reason, can never remember to get floor cleaner. Our house has all wood floors so it is a needed thing. That is probably why I feel like I am ALWAYS buying more.
3. Stamps. I HATE to buy stamps. The other day I was mailing my North Dakota "Niece" a box of stuff and it occurred to me that I needed stamps. While waiting in line I contemplated all the ways I could possibly NOT have to buy stamps...but hand-delivering a valentine's day card to my parents and grandparents is just not something I will be able to do this time. Stamps...grrr.
Later today I need to make a trip to the store. There are those things that come up that you need to buy, but never remember to buy when you are actually AT a store. My list today includes the following
1. Hurricane lamp. Last week we had a really wild storm. At our house, for whatever reason, when it rains even a little bit, my power ALWAYS goes off. So, last week I raced home from work (because I could SEE it rolling in). I hurried and let the dog out (because he refuses to go outside in the rain), made some kind of quick dinner so we could at least eat before the power went off, AND I ran to the hall closet and pulled out all the candles I had and lit them in anticipation of the power outage. So, needless to say, we enjoyed the rainstorm in a living room that smelled like Christmas Cookies/coffee candle/frosted cranberry/and sandalwood (I had four candles but none of which were the same fragrance).
2. Floor cleaner. I, for some reason, can never remember to get floor cleaner. Our house has all wood floors so it is a needed thing. That is probably why I feel like I am ALWAYS buying more.
3. Stamps. I HATE to buy stamps. The other day I was mailing my North Dakota "Niece" a box of stuff and it occurred to me that I needed stamps. While waiting in line I contemplated all the ways I could possibly NOT have to buy stamps...but hand-delivering a valentine's day card to my parents and grandparents is just not something I will be able to do this time. Stamps...grrr.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
THAT is art?
This past weekend a friend and I decided we would sample some of the delights that the local museums have to offer. We each had coupons for half price entry to the Dali Museum in downtown St. Pete. So, armed with coupons and NO prior knowledge of what we were getting ourselves into we blissfully headed off for an afternoon of culture.
I knew it would be an adventure to begin with because whenever I drive to downtown St. Pete I encounter some kind of strange happening. Last time I navigated the mean streets of St. Pete I was with my Aunt from Omaha, Nebraska.That particular time I drove up the wrong way down a one-way street, AND I nearly ran over a homeless man who was taking a nap practically in the middle of the road. At any rate, we made it to the museum, but by that time all the "free" parking (which was all of ten parking spaces) was taken and we had to resort to the $5.00 parking garage.
BUT, we had made it. We were at the museum. We were getting culture. It was going to be great. Then, we went inside and right away I think we realized that this Dali guy was not your run of the mill artist. We was a real weirdo. We discovered that a lobster sculpture mounted to the base of an old-time telephone is "art". Also, a sports coat covered in shot glasses filled with a strange green fluid was also "art."
However, the price of admission was worth every penny as my friend and I encountered the various people in the art gallery. The first character was a 65 year old man who was obviously on his first date with a new lady friend. They said very little but stood looking at the lobster phone for a good 15 minutes. They would look, step back, think about it, hold their chins like great "thinkers" and then start all over again. Another character was a 40 year old man who had put on a paper mustache that looked just like Dali's. He stood at one painting and made the following remarks. "Oh look there Celia. Here in this classic work, the artist has placed all these pocket watches. But what's this??? Observe how two of the watches are EXACTLY alike. This bespeaks of man's disgruntled subconscious of Freudian anomalies." Do you get my point? He was so strange. But, the last lady we encountered there made me "pretend" like I was interested in a particular painting so I could hear the rest of her conversation. From what I could gather, she considered herself somewhat of a Dali and put HERSELF into these deep dreams to "envision" her way out of difficult times. PHEW. When my friend and I left, we decided that we had had enough of culture...for now. So, in the long run the day broke down like this...Cost of parking $5.00, Cost of admission $20.00, realizing that people who think they understand art are really frightening but REALLY FUNNY to watch....PRICELESS.
I knew it would be an adventure to begin with because whenever I drive to downtown St. Pete I encounter some kind of strange happening. Last time I navigated the mean streets of St. Pete I was with my Aunt from Omaha, Nebraska.That particular time I drove up the wrong way down a one-way street, AND I nearly ran over a homeless man who was taking a nap practically in the middle of the road. At any rate, we made it to the museum, but by that time all the "free" parking (which was all of ten parking spaces) was taken and we had to resort to the $5.00 parking garage.
BUT, we had made it. We were at the museum. We were getting culture. It was going to be great. Then, we went inside and right away I think we realized that this Dali guy was not your run of the mill artist. We was a real weirdo. We discovered that a lobster sculpture mounted to the base of an old-time telephone is "art". Also, a sports coat covered in shot glasses filled with a strange green fluid was also "art."
However, the price of admission was worth every penny as my friend and I encountered the various people in the art gallery. The first character was a 65 year old man who was obviously on his first date with a new lady friend. They said very little but stood looking at the lobster phone for a good 15 minutes. They would look, step back, think about it, hold their chins like great "thinkers" and then start all over again. Another character was a 40 year old man who had put on a paper mustache that looked just like Dali's. He stood at one painting and made the following remarks. "Oh look there Celia. Here in this classic work, the artist has placed all these pocket watches. But what's this??? Observe how two of the watches are EXACTLY alike. This bespeaks of man's disgruntled subconscious of Freudian anomalies." Do you get my point? He was so strange. But, the last lady we encountered there made me "pretend" like I was interested in a particular painting so I could hear the rest of her conversation. From what I could gather, she considered herself somewhat of a Dali and put HERSELF into these deep dreams to "envision" her way out of difficult times. PHEW. When my friend and I left, we decided that we had had enough of culture...for now. So, in the long run the day broke down like this...Cost of parking $5.00, Cost of admission $20.00, realizing that people who think they understand art are really frightening but REALLY FUNNY to watch....PRICELESS.
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