a break in the clouds

This is long.  It is rambling.  And it is somewhat repetitious.  It is mostly a place for me to get things out of my head.  (Because there is already not enough room in there as it is!) The pictures are some I've taken this summer.  You can read as much or as little into them as you wish!

 The last year or so have had some rough patches.  But right now - and for the past few months - there seems to be a "break in the clouds" and I will take that for the gift that it is.

I have blogged about some of the events that have taken place in the last few months, but to do so as the tapestry is still being woven has left some gaps and missing threads.  I truly have felt like I was watching someone else's life unfold, and it has been amazing for me to watch.  

School has been bad for a long time.  It has gradually gotten that way, over a matter of years.  Our 'demographics' have changed.  A "failing" school nearby was closed a few years ago, and we absorbed many of those kids when we were already struggling to keep above water.  No one ever answered our SOS calls. The people I have worked with have, for the most part, been awesome, and that is one reason why I have stayed.  I think that happens in many struggling schools - the teachers band together and support each other because they don't get the support from anywhere or anyone else.  So while things were challenging, this school year was the first time ever in the 24 years that I had been at the school that I requested a transfer (requesting to transfer is NOT the same thing as actually getting a transfer...it just opens the door for you to pursue it).

This past year, I regularly calculated the amount of days remaining until retirement.  The formula went something like (3.5 x 182) + r, if r = the number of days remaining in the year.  I never purchase alcohol and rarely drink, but this year by the Thursday of testing week, I was rummaging in the kitchen drawers for a corkscrew.  I was sure the pain in my neck and shoulders would require professional assistance.  I could barely turn my head or tilt my head back to drink.  

Married life has also not been all sunshine and rainbows for some time now. Without dragging all of that out, lets just say that someone's expectations exceeded someone else's capacity to give.  And that some people seem happiest when they are miserable.  And that misery seems to expect company.  

In  mid April our principal stood before the school board and explained that she needed to be able to pick her own team of teachers and that she needed teachers that could teach these "children of poverty".  The school board, by a narrow margin, granted her permission to "reconstitute" her staff.  We would all need to reapply for our jobs and be interviewed if we wished to stay.  Having been told earlier in faculty meetings that we need to "own" the students' lack of achievement, it was the proverbial final slap in the face for many.  All of the blood, sweat, and tears we had given for years was so unappreciated.

I assumed that I would stay.  I had my reasons.  I had *only* 3.5 years remaining.  I didn't want to start over somewhere else.  I didn't want to move.  Better to stay with what you know than to go with what you don't know.  But truth be told, you can boil those reasons down to two:  fear and laziness.  

The pain and stress in my shoulders and neck intensified.

Nearly a week later - on April 23 - I was at daily Mass at the church near my school.  The first reading that day was from the Acts of the Apostles, and the first few sentences were something along the lines of the good that happened because of those who were scattered by persecution.  The Gospel spreading because of those who were persecuted.  This resonated with me, because by that point, it had become apparent that many on our faculty (good)  were going to choose to leave (scatter) because of the attitude and treatment (persecution) they had received.  

It was NOT a lightening-bolt moment.  It was just a quiet, "hmmm, that's interesting" moment.  I was at a point where I didn't even realize that I had a decision to make.  I just assumed it would be made for me.  If the principal wanted me, I would stay; and if not, I would go.  There is adoration after Mass on Tuesdays, and I had a few minutes before I had to be at school, so I stayed.  I jotted a few questions in my journal.  I said a quick prayer to be open to God's plan.  But I wasn't planning on making any life-changing decisions - at least not that day.  I had no idea what opening the door just a little bit had done.

When I got to school, I chatted with a co-teacher friend about 8th grade math and inquired about her plans for the coming year.  She was not returning.  I went on about my business for the day.  I can not explain what happened, but sometime before lunch, the thought formed in my head, "You do not have to come back here next year." (Was it that quiet whispering voice of God?)  By the time I went on lunch duty, I heard those words coming out of my mouth, "I'm not coming back here next year!"  And it felt good! 

As I drove home from school that day, I noted that I could turn my head without pain.  That, alone, was confirmation of my decision.  It has been nearly 3 months since that day, and that pain, that stress has NOT returned to my body.  One of my co-workers noted later that it "sounded like a healing".  Maybe it was!

I walked into my house, dropped my keys on the counter and said to my husband, "I'm not going back there next year."  "Good," was his reply.

The next day I went to Mass at my own parish.  I am sure the homily was not very memorable to most who attended that day, but all I could say when he finished was "wow!"  My good priest, had chosen to preach on how we hear the Spirit.  It starts as a seed planted in the Liturgy (just like at Mass yesterday).  Then it is nourished by prayer (staying for Adoration) and in talking with others (like my friend before school and other teachers during the day).  "We seldom hear God speak to us in a booming voice" (I sure didn't), he went on.  The Spirit works through ordinary things.  The more he said, the bigger my smile got.  It was as if he had been following me the day before.  I had to email him and tell him "thank you", even though I'm sure his homily was in no way intentional...more like following the Spirit.  More confirmation.

As I told my co-workers of my decision in the following days, I received responses ranging from high-fives to sadness to questioning if it was really God that I was hearing.  One of my favorite responses was from our 80-something year old clerk...the only person who has been there longer than me.  "Good for you!" she said.  The next morning, I found a fortune-cookie sized slip of paper in my box from her.  I taped it to an index card and stuck it on the door to the cabinet behind my desk.

As the year drew to a close, my co-workers and I began to dream of what might await us beyond our current situations.  There were a huge number of resignations and retirements during the school year throughout our system, so chances were excellent that there would be some desirable positions available.  If we chose to be displaced, we had to be placed somewhere, and we had first choice of what would be available.

"Don't work for a woman." (that piece of advice from a woman)
"Get off of this side of town." (From our campus cop)
"It's a matter of you choosing who you want to work for."
 "Don't go to a 'D' or 'F' school."
"You might like a mild/moderate class."  (from my friend who taught the mild/moderate class at our school)
"I think I might like a school where children actually bring pencils to school."
"My dream school will have its own Brainpop account," I messaged a co-worker one night.  "Way to dream big," she replied.
"I want a  good boss," I had texted one of my old [good] bosses.

"Where are you going?  What are you going to do?" people would ask.  "I don't know," I would reply with a smile.  "They have to put me somewhere and I'm sure God has a plan that is better than mine.  I'm sure wherever I end up, there will be a reason."  I stuck with that line throughout.  "God has a plan."  People would tell me that they were praying for me to get a "good school" and I would ask them to simply pray for me to know the "right one" when it presented itself.  But truthfully almost anything had to be better.

On May 6, ironically the first day of Teacher Appreciation Week, at a faculty meeting that lasted past 5 pm, as a huge roach crawled across the ceiling in our library, we were given papers to sign indicating whether we would (a) reapply for our jobs (b) voluntarily be displaced or (c) resign or retire.  Nearly 2/3 of the faculty checked the second option.  Only 6 core teachers of 19 asked to stay, and one of those has since accepted a job in another system.  Words like "blindsided" were whispered in the coming days, but I don't know if that was really the case.  However, I am glad the task of filling the shoes of those that chose to leave is not mine.  Other schools are gaining some wonderful teachers.

The next day, I returned to Mass at the church near my school.  "Sometimes it is better not to stay," said the pastor in his homily.  The Biblical reference was to the Ascension of Jesus, who could not stay with His Apostles,  but the application to my life was too obvious to be missed.  I had to hug him after Mass.  After 24 years, I had chosen not to stay.  More confirmation.

Married life continued to limp along.  Things were seemingly calm on the surface, but the anger and resentment leap out of any writing I did at that time.  My good confessor had told me months earlier to offer the anger to God every day.  He said it wasn't wrong to be angry, but to offer it so that Jesus could help me channel it.  And every day, to ask God to help me be as patient with   as God is with me.  And so I did.  About mid-May, with all the other stresses of special ed paperwork and moving and planning my last Honors night, my frustration with married life was overwhelming.  "I can't fix it. Only God can," were the words that ended a long, ranting journal entry - I guess that is where I channeled the anger.  Those are true words.  In our weakness is often when God's power is shown.  

Maybe it was that day, or maybe it was a few days later, I stood in front of the tabernacle in the quiet, empty church, and told God the same thing:  "I can't fix it.  You show me what I need to do, but you are going to have to handle the rest, Lord, because I am fresh out of ideas. You made him.  He's yours.  You fix him."  I think sometimes God gets right on those prayers...the prayers of desperation or surrender.  It didn't take him long before he showed me what I could do.  It was something I knew already, but haven't done nearly enough of.  I have had the sense for quite some time, that "this kind only comes out by prayer."

Later that morning, I met up with one of my favorite substitute teachers at school.  She is an older black lady, and there has been a connection from almost the first time she subbed for someone in my classroom.  We have had good conversations, and I love talking to her.  So that particular morning, I went out of my way to visit with her while she was standing outside of a classroom.  She started to tell me about a book that she had gotten the night before from her church library (where I had just visited hours earlier)  that she could NOT put down.  "The Power of  a Praying Wife," she said.  "Please, you HAVE to read it," she begged.   "OK, God, I hear you," I thought.  When I got home that evening, I dug out the Amazon Gift Card I had gotten for Christmas, downloaded the book, and began to read.  It was good.

Sunset over the Mississippi River 7.9.13

The school year was wrapping up.  Packing picked up steam.  The week before Mother's Day, I had placed a box on one of the desks in my classroom and labeled it "Give Away Box".  I explained to my students that they could take anything they wanted out of that box. Two items that were placed in there early on were a half burned candle in a cute container, and a kind of ugly yellow flowery coffee mug that I had used to hold pens and pencils.  Things I neither wanted to throw in the garbage or move.  Two different kids plucked them out of the box, and each kid asked me if I had some wrapping paper.  They were so proud to have something for their moms for Mother's Day.  It was sad and sweet all at the same time.

The Give Away box became two, and then covered a couple of desks, too.  I have a friend starting her own homeschooling business, so her husband came and picked up much of it.  I emptied filing cabinets (except for one drawer I had no idea what to do with).  I bagged the contents of my desk in ZipLocs and wiped out the drawers.  The closet gradually emptied.  I threw away so many things.  Finally it was done. The room echoed. There was a little twinge of sadness, but mostly relief.

I had heard about a potential opening at a middle school 4 minutes from my house.  It met one or two of the requirements on my list.  It was a mild moderate class in the back of the school somewhere.  I dropped off a resume and a cover letter and even interviewed with the principal, but the teacher who was leaving had not yet resigned.  I did what I could to make that job happen, but it did not.  So I assumed God's answer on that one was "no".

When Human Resources began to make the long-awaited phone calls, I once again found myself in the quiet church.  All along, I had prayed to know the right job when it came along, but now it was crunch time.  "How will I know?" I asked out loud to the good Lord.  There was silence.  But I clicked open my journal (it is on my iPad and is one of the best things ever).  I made 2 lists:  Jobs I Would Say Yes To and Jobs I Would Say No To.  There were 4 on each list.

Finally, I called HR, because they didn't seem to be calling me, and they started fumbling around for openings I was qualified for.  There were not many.  A self-contained class at School J, I automatically dismissed because it was "too far" to drive.  Others I said "no" to because they were worse than what I had left.  Nothing on my "yes list" was offered.  There was one more - one that I had put on my "no" list. But it seemed like the lesser of the evils being offered.  So in the heat of the moment, I accepted it.

When I met with the principal that afternoon, I found out that I had not gotten the whole story from HR, and that I would also be teaching 2 regular subjects in addition to 2 Special Ed classes.  I regretted the choice almost immediately.  The planning and paperwork would have been epic.  The next morning, June 21, I set to work trying to find out if the spot at School J was still available.  I emailed the principal.  I called.  I put the address in my GPS and drove to the school.  Took the chance that someone would be there, and ran into the principal and another staff member.  It felt right.  By that afternoon, the change had been made and I was elated.

As the weeks have passed, I have had time to process it, and check the items off of my wish list.

• Male principal. (Don't work for a woman.) Check.
• On the other side of town.  I think it is the furthest point away from my old school.  Check.
• Not a D or F school.  It's a D, oh well. (Editing to Add:  In October new "grades" came out, and the school improved to a "C")
• A Mild/Moderate class.  Check.
• In the back of the school, out of the drama. There is a garden outside my door.  Check.
• At a school where kids bring pencils. To be determined.
• With its own Brain Pop account. I checked it out, and it worked!  Check.  
• Principal with a soul.  I have heard promising things.  Check.
• Decent supervisor.  Again, I have heard good things.  Probably a check.  (Editing to Add:  Check.)

When I look at that list and see that God answered my prayers, pretty much down to the most ridiculous detail of having its own BrainPop account, I am in awe.  (There is still something in the back of my mind that thinks that may all go out the window when actual people show up, but for now, I am going with gratitude and answered prayers.)

Sometime in the midst of this, things began to be better on the homefront.  It is a superficial kind of better, but I will take that for now.  It is a happier attitude, acceptance, a smile.   I do not know why.  I don't know if it is prayer, or medications, or a reaction to my lack of stress.  But whatever the cause, it is something to be grateful for.

I am looking forward to the coming school year with hope, instead of dread.  God is so very good!

11/29/13 Editing to add:  When the "School Report Cards" were issued in October, my new school moved up from a "D" school to a "C" school.  Now even that can be checked off of the list.  Everything I asked for, I received, through no merit of my own.  Glory be to God!

  

done

 It's been a few weeks since I locked the door for the last time and left the keys in my box.

Twenty-four years worth of stuff sorted through, purged, and packed.  We relived a few memories along the way of kids who had come and gone.  We made many trips to the dumpster.  We hugged some kids and wiped away a little snot the last day of school.  Some of them loved us...

This is the sign that was on my door for the last few weeks of school.  One afternoon, the bathroom, the copy machine and the coke machine all had Out of Order signs on them.  I decided to join them, and trust me....it was v.e.r.y out of order in my room!

The days at the end were bittersweet.  I have loved the people I've worked with.  I've loved my cozy room.  I've even loved the kids.  But in the end, it was mostly relief that I felt.  We had a deadline of 9 pm on our last workday to have everything out, and we made it with hours to spare.  The later it got, the more we threw in the garbage can.  When the room started to echo, I knew that we were close.  

This was my corner of the room.  I took pictures when we were finished, but for some reason, none of them came out.  A friend took these for me a few days later, and my desk has been pushed against the wall and the student desks pushed to the other side.  The red cabinet door - a previous owner had painted them, and I thought the red was awful.  So we kept them covered with blue paper.  

The view from my desk.  I will miss my Promethean board.  

The side with my assistant's desk, the kids' desks, and the computers.  

The view outside my door.  Unique architecture for a school, but I always thought it was pretty.  Our custodians kept it nicely landscaped and clean.

I have defined "done" in different ways...the empty room, the boxes stacked in my garage, the pile of clothes that I won't wear in public again...

They say when one door closes, another opens, and I am looking forward to that.  I have had one interview, but hiring is frozen in our system right now.  Some teachers are waiting to retire/resign, so it is hard to get an accurate picture of what is available.  

The last five weeks of the school year - when I knew that I didn't have to go back - were the best ones of the entire year.  It feels great not to be stressed and to be able to turn my head without pain.  I feel for the people who chose to stay.  

In the end, I packed what I wanted and disposed of the rest.  But the most important things that I took didn't fit in a box.  Each and every person that I worked with touched my life in some way...and that is the real treasure of what I took away.  

it opened

Going off of the last post....I knocked; the door opened.

I have been so extremely stressed about the goings on at my school lately.  Even if I try to avoid it, my body knows what is happening and the knots in my back and neck and shoulders give it away.

I met the whole "reconstitution" issue with a rather neutral frame of mind.  No real feeling one way or the other.  And then mixed feelings.  Almost immediately after it passed, our principal began drafting her new "team"...meeting with the teachers she would like to stay.  Many of them are choosing to leave in spite of her offer. Thursday and Friday passed with no contact from her (and so have the first 3 days of this week).  Monday she was out (interviewing our replacements at a job fair).

Monday, after speaking to my sister-in-law the night before, I had posted the St. Michael prayer as my Facebook status.  St. Michael and I are pretty good friends - he has gotten me through some tough times before.  On Tuesday, I woke up like any other day.  I went to Mass at the church near my school.  The first reading caught my attention.  It was from the Acts of the Apostles and spoke of the good that was accomplished by those who were scattered as a result of persecution.  I know they weren't talking about middle school teachers, but that just stuck with me.   The people at my school have always been a family, and now we are being scattered to the four winds.

They have adoration after Mass on Tuesday, so I stayed for a few minutes, wrote a few questions in my journal about it, asked for guidance and the openness to know His plan.  I thought about my integrity as a person and how much I am willing to put up with.  A flash of the staff member that gave me so many problems a few years back had also visited me in a dream the previous week.  (I'm not much for putting a lot of stock in my dreams, and I seldom even remember them, but that seemed to remind me that her return to our workplace was a possibility.)

I arrived at school and ran across one of my friends on the sidewalk.  I followed her to her room, and we chatted about 8th grade math and her plans for next year (she is leaving).  Nothing dramatic.

I do not know what happened. But by the time I went on lunch duty, I heard the words "I'm not coming back here next year" coming out of my mouth.  I don't know where they came from.  I've been at this school forever - I've taught the parents and aunts and uncles of the kids I teach now.  I have always joked that I would die or retire there.  Lately with the stress - dying seems the more likely option.  (An assistant principal and another teacher left last week on medical leave.)

As I drove home Tuesday afternoon, I noted that the stress in my shoulders and neck was gone!!  That was confirmation enough for me that the decision was the right one.  Where will I be next year?  Not a clue.  What will I be teaching next year?  I don't know.  But I do know that God has a plan, and it is better than mine.  Will it be some piece of cake dream job?  Probably not.  But there will be a reason why I am where I am.

I didn't really need any more confirmation.  But the next morning at Mass with my own good priest, I sat in amazement.  In his homily, he detailed the very process that I had walked through the day before when we "hear" God.  The "seed" planted in liturgy;  the prayer and discernment; the conversation with others; the fact that it seldom comes in a huge booming voice, but often a quiet whisper.  He likened it to the process of how the politicking that went on before the pope was chosen...the Holy Spirit moves in ordinary things.  It wasn't a particularly memorable homily, but it was a WOW! moment for me.

And if I needed any further thumbs up, the fight that I broke up between 2 brawling 13-year-olds in the middle of 3rd hour math class did it.  I maneuvered one - the one who was 'losing' -  outside of the classroom while the other teacher called the office for assistance and kept the other kid inside the classroom.  The kid I had in my grasp broke away and stood outside banging and kicking and screaming at the locked classroom door.  There's the door thing again!  After our campus cop and an assistant principal arrived to take them away, the other teacher looked at me and asked, "reconsidering your decision yet?"

So my focus for the next couple of weeks is to finish the never-ending paperwork, as much as it can be finished and then to sort and pack.  My prayer is to know the right job when it appears on my radar.

The only other person who has been at my school longer than me is our 80-something year old clerk in the front office.  I whispered my decision to her yesterday.  Today, I found a fortune cookie sized slip of paper from her in my box.  It made my heart smile.

 True words.  He makes all things new.

Editing to Add:  The disappearance of the horrendous stress that was weighing down on me has been signal enough for me that the decision is the right one.  Everything else on my plate has remained....but the stress has not returned.

Last Monday, I signed the paper to make my decision official.  I did this as a humongous cockroach inched across the ceiling in the school library.  I said that I would like to be "displaced".  I will be placed somewhere else in the system.  On Tuesday, as I sat at the same church where the seed had been planted a few weeks earlier, the theme of the priest's homily went along with the Gospel "sometimes it is better not to stay."   I could have hugged him.  As a matter of fact, I did, after Mass.  

And one more...because the confirmations keep coming.  On Monday, I was spending a few quiet moments in the church by my school (same church) before school.  I was looking in my "Courage to Change" book from AlAnon for readings about some other issues (there is a reading for each day, but an index of topics in the back), and I figured I would start with that day's reading.  What should I find, but this?

COURAGE TO CHANGE
I find it much easier to risk making decisions when I stop thinking about suffering the consequences and remember that I have the option to enjoy the consequences. Since coming to Al-Anon, I make my choices my conscientiously. I do whatever footwork seems appropriate and then turn the results over to God. The results are often quite favorable. Even when they aren't, I can still celebrate the fact that I have done my part.

For a long time, I avoided decisions because I was sure that there was some magical "right" choice that would get me what I wanted, yet I never seemed to know which choice that was. I waited until the last minute to decide and never felt good about my choices. Today I know that choosing not to decide is to decide.

It can be very liberating to make a decision. Once the choice is made, I can trust that the consequences will unfold as they should. With a slight change of attitude, perhaps I can await them with excitement and hope instead of fear and dread.

I have to think that my recent acquaintance with this group - though I have not been on a regular basis - has given me the courage to at least make this change in my life.

God is good!

in appreciation

My favorite day of the year,!  There are 1,728 hours until school starts again!  All kinds of limitless possibilities sitting out there on the horizon - just waiting to be grabbed!

It was a pretty good school year.  For the first time in many years - 13 or so - I did not have an assistant, thanks to budget cuts.  I managed OK with less time to plan, less help, more students, and more classes.  I'm not sure my students fared as well.  Ultimately they pay the price.  Today we heard that our school will have more teacher assistants in the fall!  I am cautiously excited, as is my assistant from the last several years, who was assigned to another class this year.  She helped other students, but she never really left my class.

For some reason that I do not understand - gift of God, perhaps - I have finished this year very unstressed.  Usually by the time the end of May rolls around, my shoulders are in knots, I am not sleeping well at night because I am afraid of forgetting something while I sleep, and I just don't even want to talk to people.  That didn't happen this year.  I still had all my end of the year stuff plus Honors night to plan, plus the issues from home, but no stress.  I walked through things as they came, and life was good!

I was even able to appreciate some other people this year.  Teachers love to be appreciated, and some of the things that I have saved for years have been thank-you notes.  They come so rarely - from parents or supervisors or administrators or students.  I still have one that my principal of several years ago wrote to me after an Honors Night.

Person #1 on my list of gratitude was my kids' bus driver.  I'm not even sure what his name is, but my kids love him.  When we moved to our new house, I knew by the diversity of surrounding neighborhoods, there was a good possibility that they would be two of very few white kids on the bus.  My husband was horrified at the idea that I would even entertain the thought of them being in such a situation.  As it turns out, they were the only white folks on the bus, but it has been just fine.  The bus is drama-free, the bus driver waits for us in the morning if he gets to the stop first, and my kids have appreciated his wisdom and outlook on life.  A quick note for him, and a gift card to Chik-Fil-A. 

People #2-6 on my list were my co-workers who helped me with Honors Night.  I wrote them notes, too, and bought each a gourmet chocolate bar.  Not expensive, but just a way to say thanks.  They appreciated being appreciated.

Person #7 would be my good priest.  He has been going through a lot lately, as his mother is "hanging on" and they are taking everything hour by hour, day by day.   He has missed a couple of Masses in the past 2 weekends, and we never know if there is going to be daily Mass in the morning when we get there or if he will have gotten "the call".  Since it was about time, I figured I would take advantage of confession while I could, and went yesterday.  I mentioned something about being angry and the language reflecting that, and I had to smile as he commented wryly, " it usually does". 

Dear hubby and I are both agreeable to counseling, but quite honestly, the whole idea of working through things isn't very appealing.  I'm afraid they will decide that I'm the one that is totally off in left field somewhere.  And so I said something about the fear of working through things.  Fear doesn't usually come from God.  I know the Holy Spirit speaks through this man.  With barely a thought, he pulled an example from what he is currently going through with his mom and siblings.  Apparently things have not been all sunshine and roses with his siblings through the years.  He said how much he had dreaded what he is now going through, but how awesome God's healing love had been in the past weeks.  Never be afraid of the healing love that Jesus wants to pour out, he tells me...bite the bullet and work through it!  He is always SO encouraging!

Person # 8 would be my principal.  He has his issues, but he is also kind and compassionate.  I had an observation back in November, I think.  It was such a train wreck that I never went in afterwards for a post-observation conference.  In the middle of my math lesson, with my principal sitting in the back of my room, I had kids asking for "call-home slips" and refusing to lift their heads off the desk.  The icing on the cake was when one of them - in his socks - got up and started to 409 his desk in the middle of a lesson on equivalent fractions.  The desk was dirty, after all.  Probably because he had written on it.  I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when it was all done.  I chose laughter.  This week, I had to finally sit with him and sign end-of-the-year paperwork and that observation.  He said that in spite of the fact that I had to constantly redirect attention, my teaching never stopped, and that it was a masterful job.  I thought it was so kind of him to see the glass as at least half-full. 

And so here we are with a post that I meant to be about the opportunities of summer, but ended up to be about gratitude.  What are you grateful for?  How can you show it?

another week

Yep...nearly another week has passed!

Last year during Lent, I had so much to say that I felt like I was boring people by posting it all.  And this year...  Well, we appear to be about on the once-a-week plan!  And still I worry that I am boring people. Life has been very busy and somewhat aggravating. 

Monday?  Tuesday?  Too long ago to remember!

Wednesday, during my 7th grade math class, I heard sirens.  When class was over, I checked the parking lot.  There were not 1, not 2, not even 3 or 4...but FIVE police cars.  Parents behaving badly.  And we wonder why the kids act like they do?  Not really...it's not rocket science.  Perhaps it was the full moon...

Wednesday night my boys and I fashioned this stunning pool cover.  We survived a winter of leaves and acorns in the pool, but the infernal oak pollen will surely turn it into a icky yellowish tea.  You haven't really lived until you've fought oak pollen!

As we were putting the "cover" on it, we wondered aloud how the dog might react to it...she enjoys taking a dip in the pool in all sorts of weather.  She promptly answered our question by walking on it and nearly drowning in the process.  She hasn't walked on it since.This morning we pulled it off and tried to put it on a little better.  Hubby was home to help this time.  He belongs to the "if-duct-tape-can't-fix-it...then-it's-broke" club.  So yeah...he duct-taped it down in places... Cajun ingenuity?

And then there was one small part that the big tarp didn't cover - due to the pool's irregular shape.  So we tried to attach another one, but the holes didn't line up.  That's OK - string it together and duct tape it!  And the best part - this man is so creative - He wanted to keep this part out of the water so the tape might stick...so he got some empty containers that float, and put them underneath.  I knew we would do a better job with his help.  He is creative like that!

Wednesday was not great, but Thursday was just nuts.  My car made "that" sound when I started it in the morning.  There was nothing to do, but to go on.  Hubby was on a job, away from home, and there was no other vehicle at home for me to use.  I dropped the kids at the bus stop and went to Mass...where else are you going to go at 6:15 in the morning?.  I prayed the whole time that it would start again when I came out.  It did - barely.  So I drove to the auto parts store.  They didn't open for another 30 minutes, but I had no choice. 

I figured I'd buy a battery, they'd put it in for me, and I would be on my merry way.  Oh no, couldn't be that simple.  They tested the battery, and the result showed the battery was still good.  The man said it might be the starter??  Didn't really sound right to me, but he gave me a jump, and I went to get hubby's vehicle, which was parked at his brother's house. 

When I called my dear husband to update him on the situation, he said he couldn't talk right then, because HIS truck was breaking down.  Sigh.  Had to have his work truck towed back home from 30 or so miles away.

Meanwhile, we had left the dog in the house that morning, not wanting her to drown in our "pool cover". 

I had a 9:00 meeting that I hadn't finished the paperwork for, and my supervisor shows up at 8:30. 

It was just too much.  I was able to find a sub on the second phone call, and left at noon.  I was reminded at one point of the quote attributed to St. Teresa of Avila..."Lord, if this is how you treat your friends, its no wonder you have so few of them!"

We enjoyed a track meet that evening in gorgeous weather and had Chick-Fil-A for dinner, so the day ended pretty well.

One of my friends pointed out on Facebook that if we view trials and tribulations as gifts from the Father, then I had certainly had a very blessed couple of days!

Fast forward a day, a different battery test said it was the battery, and we are trying to decide whether it is even worth it to fix hubby's truck.  He has the sense that he will not be approved for his medical card in the coming months and is freely tossing the word "retirement" around. 

We spent a few hours outside today, trying to get the back "yard" cleaned up.  It looks a lot better, though there are still plenty of weeds to pull.  The citrus trees are on their second bloom.  We will have 10 zillion lemons...again.  The grapefruit tree has a lot of flowers, but it also seems to be "aborting" a lot of the baby grapefruits. 

These flowers are getting ready to bloom...

Lent it going well enough, I suppose.  No dramatic changes or revelations (although I have realized that I can focus much better on the Stations of the Cross if I close my eyes and listen rather than reading along in the booklet.  A nice quiet steady progress overall - at least here and there.  Compassionate Shepherd.  Bread of Life.  Giver of Hope. 

And finally - my favorite picture of the week....

Looking forward to losing an hour of sleep this weekend, anyone??  Have a good one!

where to start?

Am I alone in wishing that holidays could sometimes just pass unnoticed?  It seems like there is always a holiday issue.

Keeping it real, here, people  Advent was more or less OK. Christmas Eve was nice.  Christmas morning Mass was lovely.  And then it all hit the proverbial fan.  Something was said.  Feelings were hurt (mine).  More things were said.  Voices were raised.  Doors were slammed.  All in all, it was not a pretty scene.  For the birthday celebration of the Prince of Peace. 

I am so not a door-slamming kind of person.  I let things go.  I overlook a lot.  But it just blew.  I felt justified.  I know that the other party is not totally at fault, but I also know that there is a lot of validity to what I am feeling, thinking.  I still haven't sorted through it all...still haven't figured out how to make it better.  This is where it is handy to have someone to bounce ideas off of - someone who is not going to automatically take either side, but give you an objective picture.  But that is hard to find.

I thought briefly about going to confession this morning before Mass, but I wasn't sure exactly what I'd confess or if I was actually sorry or just wanting to complain.  So I figured I'd wait...

But there were some good moments, too.  I like this picture of my dad and granddad.  My granddad turned 95 in April, and his health has not been the best in recent months.  But he was with us for Christmas - alert and "with it".   It brings back bitter-sweet memories of an elderly neighbor of my parents who was like a grandparent to us.  About three or four years ago, she was with us for Christmas - as good as ever - and then gone two weeks later. 

And this picture of my brother and sister watching their little ones play.

Dear Hubby's grandkids are visiting.  There are six - ranging in age from nearly 3 to just turned 12.  The oldest always spends most of his time with us when they visit.  He likes hanging out with "the uncles" who are nearly 15 and 16.  They enjoy him in limited quantities.  He thinks he is on vacation...but there is still boring stuff to be done - like raking leaves.

With a house that is big enough to hold a few more, we have also had some of the others spending the nights and days.  One night I had the 5, 6, and 12 year olds. The 5 year old was walking around the house at 3 am crying.   Last night was the 6 and 9 year olds.  They are good kids as kids go, but taking care of other people's kids during my Christmas break...  Is it wrong to feel that way? 

I am so thankful that my 16 year old has wrestling practice at 7 a.m.  That means we have to leave the house before they wake up.  I go to Mass and work-out or run errands waiting for him to finish.  A little bit of peace. 

Does anyone have cheese to go with my whine?

locked down

Friday morning dawned with a cold, wet rain falling. 

One of my sons had an overnight guest because Thursday night was some kind of Beavis and Butthead great event.  (B & B can only be enjoyed by teenage boys, I think).  He did not have the proper documentation to ride the bus to school with my sons on Friday, and the cold wet rain really made standing at the bus-stop unappealing, so I told them that they could just come to Mass with me and I would drop them at school afterwards.

You can imagine how excited 3 teenage boys were about going to 6:30 a.m. Mass, but they knew better than to protest too much. 

They must have prayed, though, because when we got to church, there was no Mass.  Our sacristan was in the parking lot, sending people on their way.  Father was sick (food poisoning, my altar server sons told me tonight). 

So we continued on our way to High School.  I haven't dropped them off since the first day of school, and it was daylight then.   But at 6:30 this particular morning, it was dark, dark, dark, rainy, and cold.  (They start school at 7:05).

We noted a few buses arriving.  The gate in the front where I would normally drop off (I dropped off a lot more often last year, when we lived 5 minutes away) was locked.  So figuring that we were just too early, we pulled into the parking lot on the side where the teachers were arriving and decided to wait a few minutes.

After the requisite few minutes, I decided to drive them to the front and drop them off - there appeared to be activity there.  Imagine my surprise/aggravation to find myself locked in - a gate across the street - locked.  It's raining and dark, still. 

The boys and I made our way into the building.  The halls were patrolled by bright-eyed teachers directing the boys to go to the gym.  I explained my predicament and I was sent upstairs to the library where the administrators were holding forth for some reason.  I was met in the library by a posse of police and various school personnel who seemed to be on their way out and into action.  Something about a bomb threat.

The posse of police didn't really alarm me - I knew a couple of them from my own school - which is a really sad commentary right there.  They periodically gather to conduct random searches (another sad fact).  And a bomb threat - well, when  was the last time you heard about a school actually blowing up when someone called in a threat?  I just wanted to get out.

I explained my situation again, and they said they would send *someone* to unlock the gate.  When I got there, the gate was indeed unlocked and additional cars trying to drop off children had turned in.  But there was someone out there locking it back....telling those of us who were now locked in - that we would have to go out "the other way". 

What other way?  "Follow those cars," someone told me.  And all was well until 2 cars went straight and 2 cars went left.  I stopped and waited.  It was wet and it was dark.  Those that turned left seemed to know where they were going, so I eventually picked that.  Wrong!  Ended up on a soccer field or something.  Turned around and headed back the other way.  All the way to the back of the campus, around the back of the stadium, and back along the other side of the school.

I had thoughts of calling in sick if this was any indication of the way the day was going to go.  

By the time I was free, I had missed my chance for 7:00 Mass, but was able to make 7:15 at another parish.

Missed my workout.  Shucks!  Heard later in the day that our Curves is closing....like Monday.  :-(

Later in the afternoon, I crossed paths with the SRO at my school.  He said he had been at my sons' school for the operation there - someone had written a note the previous day threatening to come in and shoot up the place until they ran out of ammo.  They take such things seriously.  Had I known that was what the real threat was, I probably would have packed up my kids and taken them with me. 

Thankfully, the rest of my day did NOT go like the morning.  The rain cleared, though the sun never came out.  My fifth graders - who suck every ounce of patience from me on a daily basis -  were a pleasure to work with - rare occurrence that is! 

My children came home safely.  Life is good.

sometimes God uses pictures

                                                                                     Taking a step back into the archives here.....   Once upon a time, I took this picture in my backyard.  I thought it was a great picture, but it was especially special because of the story behind it. 

At that particular time in my life, April and May were e.x.t.r.e.m.e.l.y stressful, because at that time of the year, we would have to redo all of the IEPs on our caseload.  While still maintaining our normal teaching routine with kids who were ready for summer to begin.  I think at one point, that I had figured it took me an hour or so to gather the info I needed and schedule the meeting, another hour to type it, and then another hour to hold the meeting.  So every year, I would psych myself up.  I would do my best to avoid having any outside drama and trauma in my life during those two months, because I knew I would barely be able to survive with the IEPs/End of the School Year paperwork crunch.  The stress would creep into my shoulders and neck.  It would be hard to sleep, because I was afraid of forgetting something while I slept. 

But this particular year, the stress reached epic proportions, in spite of my plans.  I had a "situation" going on with the principal at my children's school.  My then-fifth-grader was having a very difficult year...all of the fifth graders were having a difficult year.  And I was just about over the top.  Then came the news that our priest was being transferred.  It was not expected, and I'd gotten to be quite fond of him.  I had a much-loved priest transferred before, and while I tried to like his replacement, I just never could.  I knew I would miss this one, and I was afraid of "what" we would get this time.  That was just "the straw".  

I felt like a rain cloud had found me and was following me around.  One afternoon, I was working in my backyard, and I asked for something to lift my spirits.  And I asked for God to let this change work out for all who were involved - for my dear priest who was leaving, for our little parish, for the parish where he was going, and for "whoever" we would get as a priest.  I was moving some branches when I heard a sound behind me that sounded like puppies,  I turned around, and there - in a tree - were the cutest little raccoons! I think there were 4 or 5.  I had my cell phone with me, so I called my child in the house and had him bring my camera!  

I snapped a few pictures.  

In the end, the dark cloud disappeared.  I did survive.  The priest who was leaving helped me to deal with the "situation" with the principal.  I survived the end of the year paperwork.  As I always do.  I think my dear priest did go to a better place, in some ways.  He had a gift for individual counseling, and he says he gets to do a lot of that where he is at.  Our "new" priest has different gifts, but is every bit as wonderful.   And the raccoons....they were gone the next day.  I never again saw animals in that little hollowed out part of the tree!  But they had served their purpose.

I was reminded that - without a doubt - God does hear and answer prayers...sometimes more quickly than we expect!

get 'er done

I knelt at church one morning this past week, before Mass, (I think it was Thursday) and the prayer that formed in my mind was, "Lord, please help me get all the crap done."  I hope He wasn't offended. 

Thursday was a very difficult day for more than one reasone, but once it was done, life looked a lot better. 

At this point, I am finished with my professional growth plan and proof.  I have ordered and picked up (and paid for) 1100 buns.  My 8th grader has gotten his hair cut, and it actually looks pretty good.  I have ordered cakes and trophies and dropped off papers at the credit union.  I have made progress on my paperwork at school...I think it will be finished by Monday when we check-out. 

I have been to my husband's ex-wife's house three times in the last 3 days.  Because you see, when the kids grow up...there are grandkids...and it happens faster than you know it.  One of my regrets there is that we didn't get along better when my stepson was growing up.  Things are good now, but it wasn't always that way. 

Changing tacks a little bit...there is a "mission camp" for teenagers sponsored by our diocese.  They only go about 20 miles away, and they help the poor in the nearby communities.  My niece went last year and loved it.  I have been encouraging my boys for a while, as well as talking to some other parents, because, "I'll go if someone else I know is going."  One mom has seemed more interested than the others, and after she had done some research, she called me early this week.  Perhaps her son and some of his friends would be interested, she said, but the $250 price tag was a little much.  Did I think that our parish consider helping with the cost.  Well, you know, "Ask and you shall receive, knock and it shall be opened..."  I told her I would email our kind pastor and inquire.  I was thrilled to get the email a few days later (the bright spot in my Thursday) that he said he would "more than happy to pick up the entire tab" for these boys.  Just one more reason (as if I needed more) why we are fortunate to have him. 

We had a good visit with the grandkids today (or at least 4 of the 6).  I had been stressing about that on Thursday, too, when my sister-in-law was acting like she might not be available today...what was I going to do with six kids + my own two?  How was I even going to transport them all?  One of my morning Mass friends, says, "You better talk to 'the Big Mama'."  Had to laugh because I've never heard the Blessed Mother referred to as 'the Big Mama'".  And of course, it all worked out!

We visited a small farm that one of my sister-in-law's friend owns.  Her husband gave us a short tour and the kids got to see some goats up close.  After we were done, we sampled some delicious goat cheese with apricots and cranberries (I think).  In this picture, my 15 year old (the uncle) is the tallest, with grandchildren #5, 2, 3, and 1. 

Afterwards, we had lunch at Chick-Fil-A and then divided and conquered.  My boys had to serve at 4:00 Mass, so the oldest came with me.  The two girls went with my sister-in-law to 4:00 Mass at another parish.  And the 4-year old boy (who doesn't have a reputation of behaving very well in Mass), went home with Paw-Paw.  Although both parents are Catholic, they have stepped away from the Church, and the kids are being raised in what my kids refer to as "the fun church", since my daughter-in-law goes on about how much fun the kids have at church.  I thought it was a great touch of irony that the 11 year old whispered to me as we were sitting in the pre-Mass hear-a-pin-drop silence, "My church is boring; your church is fun!"  Whatever.  Maybe it's all the up and down that we do during the Mass that counts for "fun"? 

It is late, and I must be up early tomorrow for the Great Sausage Po-Boy sale!

the end is near

The end of the school year...and of spring, it seems.  There are 11 or 12 days left of school.  Every year, this is easily the most stressful part of the year.  This year, I thought I was doing good.  I held my last IEP meeting today.  I picked the date for Honors night a month ago, and sent out the papers for teachers to list their awards a couple of weeks ago.  Yet everything comes to a point at the same time.

Our annual scout po-boy sale is this weekend.  I must remember to order 1100 buns tomorrow.  Honors Night is Wednesday and there are still cakes and trophies to order.  Paperwork at school is due.  Stuff that has slacked throughout the year has to be caught up.  Grades have to be inputted.  My 8th grader needs a haircut before graduation.  Paperwork needs to dropped off at the credit union so our loan can continue on its merry way.  Grandkids are coming this weekend.

I had a faculty meeting this morning.  They could have just emailed me all of the dates and saved me the trouble of being there 40 minutes early.  I missed my time with God this morning.  I thought I would go this evening, but my child needed help with his English paper.  The phone has been steadily ringing and now my offspring is in my room, playing Words With Friend on his iPod one moment and texting on his phone the next.  

God and I did continue our conversation yesterday...the one about what He wants for me to leave behind...  It was a little clearer to me, but I think it will be an ongoing conversation. 

A couple of spiritual nuggets:  Let us seek the God of all consolations, rather than the consolations of our God. ~ St. Augustine....in other words, Seek God for Himself. ~ Good Monsignor

And a few things that I thought were noteworthy from a Mother's Day Prayer Breakfast that I attended on Saturday:

The Four Stages of Prayer

• Talking AT God....ready-made prayers like the Rosary
• Talking TO God....sharing our hearts with God
• Listening to God...through scriptures, friends, good homilies, etc
• Resting in God...wordless contemplation of the holiness of God

You must SIT with God every day. (not walk, not drive, SIT)

As long as I agree to be with God, God agrees to be with me.  (Pretty sweet, isn't it?)

So, tomorrow, since I don't have any stupid meetings, I will agree to go and be with God, to sit with Him....listening, maybe resting. 

Lord, help me finish it all. 

let the water rise

14 years ago today, my younger blessing made his way into the world.  It was a quick entry, too!  Not sure how my doctor made it to the hospital in time.  If I was a good mom ;-)  I'd have wonderful pictures to document these growing years, but today I'm a kind of stressed out mom.  Work stress, not family stress.  But there is this picture from not too long ago....

I used it for my facebook profile until he requested that I take it off.    He doesn't like it, but I think it's pretty decent of both of us.   And I know I'm not a bad mom, because a bad mom wouldn't go hiking for six miles up and down hills  (mostly up).  He joined the world of cell phone owners and we enjoyed a king cake from the best king cake place in the world for his birthday.  My child that drives me crazy, but brings so much humor and laughter into our home!  

I knew today would be wild at work.  I have three IEPs this week, and I working on them was what was on my agenda.  The plans started to unravel at about 6:15 a.m. when my faithful assistant called and asked for the number of a sub.  It was my favorite sub, so that was a good thing.  I went to Mass (another good thing) and topped off my gas tank before the price went up again.  (I paid $3.19, but saw it for $3.33...)  Had a little bit of time to spend at the church.  There was a part from the responsorial psalm that caught my attention today.  

For this shall every faithful man pray to you
in time of stress.
Though deep waters overflow,
they shall not reach him.

I knew it would be a day when the waters rose.  I just didn't expect it to be a flash flood.  As I walked into my room with my students, my assistant sub told me the office had called for me.  A sub hadn't showed up (actually more than one...), so they needed me to take a 6th grade science class.  NOT what I had planned for the day.  When this happens, it just sends me off the deep end.  Maybe it shouldn't, but it does.  It is a subtle way of telling me that my students and my job are not really all that important.

I was fairly quickly relieved from that duty and then attempted to regain my footing and come to terms with all the forms and data and info needed for our meeting tomorrow.  I started on the IEP.  I love our new system.  Until it doesn't work.  All afternoon, the system was off-line.  My new student came.  I was not really ready for him, but my current students took it upon themselves to invite him.  I was going to wait until his meeting tomorrow.  

My last hour came in.  Usually my most challenging group,  they were wonderful.  Perhaps they could sense that it would not be a good day to misbehave.

You know, looking back at it on "paper", it doesn't seem like such a horrible day.  Not perfect, but it could have been worse.  

One bit of good news.  Last year, I had mentioned a priest that had been accused of misconduct.  He had presided at my step-grandmother's funeral and seemed like such a good priest.  Today came word that he has been cleared of all charges of misconduct!  He has been returned to his parish, and they celebrated with a Mass of Thanksgiving.  Thirty-one priests attended, as well as a full house of current and previous parishioners.  He noted that the past 10 months had been a time of great spiritual growth for him.  Maybe this song, which I feel can be my anthem sometimes, applies more to him.  

May the Lord guide my thoughts, words, and actions in the coming week.  Remind me that the trials you send are for good.  Even if the waters rise, they will not reach me...though I may get tired of swimming!

more important

The week ahead is sure to be a difficult one.  I have not one, not two, but three IEP meetings.  IEPs are yearly educational plans developed for special education students.  Considering that I only have about 10 students on my caseload, what are the odds that I would have three meetings in one week?  But here we have it.

One of the students is transferring from another city and has some diagnosed emotional problems.  That he will probably remain on our campus among the general population is causing me great stress.  Because our school system only RE-acts,  they can not do anything proactive, because that might violate his rights.  Someone must get hurt first.  Who will it be?  Student or staff?

Another threatened harm to the school.  He was also relatively new.  No behavior plan was in place.  I will be blamed for that, and he will probably return to school.

And then there are two other fairly routine meetings.

No doubt it will be a difficult week, with very little teaching.  I still feel guilty when I don't teach my students.  But paperwork must not be denied!

Tonight I went to Mass, praying for some inspiration.   I found it in spades.

Can a mother forget her infant, 

be without tenderness for the child of her womb?

Even should she forget, I will never forget you.

(Isaiah 49: 14-15)

Only in God be at rest, my soul, for from him comes my hope.

He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold;

I shall not be disturbed.

With God is my safety and my glory, 

he is the rock of my strength; my refuge is in God.

Trust in him at all times, O my people!  

Pour out your hearts before him.

(Psalm 62: 6-9)

It does not concern me in the least that I be judged by you or any human tribunal...

(1Corinthians 4:1-5)

The word of God is living and effective; discerning reflections and thoughts of the heart.

(Hebrews 4:12)

...Look at the birds in the sky....Are you not more important than they?

Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span?

....Learn from the way the wild flowers grow....

will he not much more provide for you...

Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself.
(Matthew 6:24-34)

The homily was about trust.  Good, but no earth-shattering revelations.  The scripture was rich, however.

The temptation to alter my morning routine and skip my few minutes before the Blessed Sacrament in order to get to school earlier and get a jump on the paperwork - rejected.  No, that time is when my soul is at rest, when I can pour out my heart before him.

That I will be blamed and berated for the lack of a behavior plan...I will try not to let it concern me.  Suffering happens.  Suck it up...offer it up.

God will not forsake me.  He is always with me, and he will be with me in the paperwork and the meetings and the unfairness of the coming week.  He will be my rock.  And I will trust.

But, if you get a chance, please offer a prayer for me.  That all the work gets done.  That decisions are made in the best interest of all parties.  That sanity and reason prevail.