Back In Session!

School is back in session. I am really liking this new group of 7th graders that I have and I LOVE having seventh period prep, which is surprising. I was really bummed when I discovered I no longer had first hour prep, but I actually think I may like seventh period prep more. My classes are all pretty small, which is great! My biggest Literacy Block class is 24, and the other two are under 20. In fact, one only has 12 students in it. The one Tech class that I teach is pretty big, but it's filled with my students from last year, and that's been pretty nice. My advisory has quite a few new students. They're a colorful bunch and I think they are going to bring a lot to advisory. I'm really excited. It's only been two days, but I'm really looking forward to the rest of this year and so far I'm happy with the way that things are going.

Hmmm...

So, Fenix has has created this character named Stick Dude and for the past year has been coming up with pictures and comic book ideas. Yesterday, he told Ken and I that Stick Dude has an "evil" step-dad who kills Stick Dude's real dad. Apparently, in Stick Dude's world, his father comes back and talks to him as a spirit. So, Stick Dude has an "evil" step-dad with a temper, huh? Do you think that's coincidence or is that an example of art imitating life? Hmmm...

My Mother is Poem...

I miss my mother every day. After she passed I started a habit of listening to somewhat thought provoking/depressing music on my way to school each morning and crying. I've moved passed that for the most part. With last year being my first year of teaching and with me approaching life in a sort of survival/I refuse to lose who I am sort of way, without realizing it, I mentally reserved my mornings for grieving. ( I know it's probably a little bit strange that I'm talking/blogging about, but I actually think it's really healthy, and to be honest I NEED to talk about it.) Summer has given me a lot more time to think and to deal with my mother's passing. I will most likely never fully accept that she is gone, because to me she still feels too real. I am sure I will hold on to her memories with a sort of desperation, and I know that there will be times now, all the way to when I'm on my deathbed, where I will need to talk about her. Whether I'm talking about how much I miss her, or the days she spent in the hospital, or just sharing funny memories about her, talking about my mother will always be apart of who I am. My mother is stitched into the fabric of my life. She is woven into every memory I have from the time when I walked out of the middle of kindergarten and walked home just to see her, to my wedding day, to just today, when of my students saw her picture and said, "Your mom has curly hair, just like you,". My mother does not physically need to be here to be a gigantic part of my life.

These are just a few memories of my mother that I've thought about today.

*I remember making cookies once when I was still living at home. I was at that stage where I was mixing the sugar(white and brown), vanilla, and egg together, and I was just about to pour in the flour. Thinking I had already added the flour, my mother grabbed a spoon and took a huge bite. We laughed about that for quite some time.
*I remember going through a really rough time about five years ago, and my mother and I taking a break together St. Luke's. We sat in the hallway, facing the window and I cried. I remember telling her "This hurts like hell." The fact that I was going through a rough time isn't exactly memorable, but the way my mom sat beside me and rubbed my back is a memory I'll keep.

These aren't much, they're just a few that crossed my mind today, and I wanted to write them down.



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The real religion of the world comes from women much more than from men - from mothers most of all, who carry the key of our souls in their bosoms. ~Oliver Wendell Holmes


My mom is a neverending song in my heart of comfort, happiness, and being. I may sometimes forget the words but I always remember the tune. ~Graycie Harmon

A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts. ~Washington Irving

God could not be everywhere, so he created mothers. ~Jewish Proverb


My mother is a poem
I'll never be able to write,
though everything I write
is a poem to my mother.
~Sharon Doubiago

My First Recipe Post!

So far, I am keeping to all of my "New School Year" resolutions. Granted, school hasn't technically started and it's only been a few days. I have yet to try a new wine for the month (I still have time); however, I have tried a new recipe. I have absolutely no name for it. I've been calling it the Mexican casserole thingy. I pulled it off the internet and then added to it. Sadly, I'm not 100% sure where I pulled it from. I copy and pasted quite a few recipes last night and saved them to a document on my computer. Nonetheless, here is the recipe:

What You Will Need:

1 lb hamburger,
2 cups salsa,
1 can black beans (drained and rinsed),
1/4 cup Craft Zesty Italian dressing,
1 package of taco seasoning,
6 flour tortillas,
1 package of shredded cheese (2 cups),
1 can of corn,
tortilla chips (optional),
and a pinch of cayenne pepper to spice it up:)

Directions:
*Preheat the over to 400 degrees.
*Brown hamburger in skillet and drain.
*Mix in salsa, black beans, Zesty Italian Dressing, taco seasoning, corn, and cayenne pepper.
*Arrange three tortillas along the bottom and side of a 13 x 9 pan.
*Cover the tortillas with half of the meat mixture.
*Then cover the meat mixture with a cup of cheese and sour cream.
*Repeat Layers.

Bake 40 minutes and Viola!




The recipe suggests placing tin foil over the casserole. I forgot to do that, but it turned out perfectly! Ken and I also spread crushed tortilla chips over the top. It was delicious! I have a weakness for Mexican food and I've made similar casseroles before and this has been the best so far.

New School Year's Resolutions

I swear that at some point in time (and hopefully in the near future) I am going to update this with pictures from our trip to Nebraska and Colorado. I really would have done it by now, but for whatever reason the act of transferring our pictures off of our camera and on to the computer seems like an incredibly daunting task. My hope is that I will do it sometime this weekend.

Well, school is back in session, at least for me. I'm doing a jump start summer school program and I am on day two. So far it's going good. Pretty soon we will have sped through summer school and right into the regular school year and THAT is why I'm updating this. :) I know that you're supposed to make New Year's Resolutions, but I have decided to make new school year resolutions. Some of which have to do with school, while others don't. In a lot of ways starting off the school year feels more like a new year than January first. So here I go, my list of new school year resolutions, in no particular order.

1. This year I'm going to try my hardest to grade all papers during the week so that I'm not taking any grading home with me over the weekend. Nothing sucks more than having a huge stack of ungraded essays looming over you all weened. My plan is to break up my paper grading over a span of a few school days each time something is due.

2. I'd like to try one new recipe a month and possibly post them on here:)

3. In addition, I think I'm going to add that I'd like to try one new wine a month as well.

4. I am going to work out at least four days a week...maybe three days on the super busy weeks, such as parent teacher conferences. I have an eliptical machine in our rec room now and so I really have no excuse.

5. This year I am limiting my trips to Starbucks. From now on, only once a week!

6. I want to keep a record of the many funny middle school moments I come across, whether I post them on here or just write them down.

7. I want to keep a cleaner house. Sometimes I get so busy during the school week that when my day is done I crash, leaving my cleaning to the weekend. Thanks to a friend, I have come up with a schedule so that I'm just doing a little something every day, as opposed to hours worth on the weekend.


I think that's it for now. I swear I have more. In fact, when I started this I could have sworn that I did. This will do for now:)

My mother passed away a little over a year ago. The anniversary of her death was July 24th. I've put off updated this, because I feel like I should write something about her. Unfortunately I haven't had much luck. Most of what I write concerning my mother comes out very raw. I have written about her a little bit over this summer, as it was one of my goals, although in truth I haven't written nearly as much as I would have liked, and none of it came out like I expected it to. These are just a few excerpts. (Each paragraph was written separately.)

One of my goals for this summer was to take some time out to write about my mother. I’ve started to on many occasions, but each time it just gets too hard. I imagined that what I wrote would be monumental and beautiful, and maybe even a little bit poetic. I thought I could write something life changing, because my mother was life changing; but every attempt that I have made has fallen short of my epic expectations I miss my mom. I miss her every day…all the time. I have said many times how lucky I was to have her and to have had the relationship I did with her and to have spent the amount of time that I did with her. All of that is true. On the other hand, and I’m going to be honest, this just sucks. There is no pretty or poetic way to put it. I miss calling her and I miss her constantly calling me. I miss hugging her or hearing her laugh. I miss breakfasts at St. Luke’s. I want to go to a family gathering and have her there. I want to go out of town and have her worry about me. I want to go to Lowe’s with her. I want to play croquet in her yard on Mother’s day and make margaritas with her and Ken on Christmas Eve. It is amazing the amount of space one person can take up and colossal hole they can leave once they are gone. She was my center, and still is. Only now that center is located inside of me.

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A little over a year ago, I watched the Fourth of July fireworks from the top floor of the St. Luke’s hospital. Initially my mom was going to watch them with us. One of the CCU nurses during the daytime had given her the idea, but by the time they had transferred her to the Oncology floor and the night nurse took a look at all of her cords and excess baggage, my mom had changed her mind. She said she was tired, and she was, in more ways than one. But, in truth, I think she just didn’t want to upset her new nurse for the night. I watched the fireworks with my face pressed up against the side of the window, with Fenix’s head below mine and Brooke and Dennin’s head in the window next to us; the fireworks exploded, multi colored, one after the other, without a sound. That fourth of July night was much like my summer. Life kept going at full speed and full volume, yet I couldn’t hear a thing. My life was on pause. My life was contained in the walls of St. Luke’s hospital. I knew what floors had the good TV’s, which vending machines held which snacks. I knew what departments let you help yourself to the soda in the fridge. I spent hours watching HGTV on silent. I waited for doctors to come in. In many ways, I grew up. I became dependent and even attached to some of my mother’s nurses. Once my mother was transferred to the oncology ward I had even had my own bed. It sounds silly, but there are times when I miss that bed. I can still remember how cool the sheets felt and they way I had to pile two thick hospital blankets over the sheets every night just to keep warm. The fourth of July was my mother’s first day on the Oncology Ward, and her last day in CCU. I had to teach that morning, and because her health was doing better, I had slept at home that night. In the CCU the back wall to her room was a window, from top to bottom. She watched her last sunrise that day, and she cried. The nurse turned her bed around so that she could look straight out the window without getting up and then she stayed past her shift that morning to hold my mother’s hand.

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My mother and I exchanged a lot of words while she was in the hospital. I told her I loved her constantly. She told me she thought I’d be O.K. She said she thought Ken and I would be fine and how happy she was that she got to see us get married. She talked to me about how she used to “bump” into her mother after she had passed in the small bedroom of her house, where she kept her mother’s things and that she would “bump” into me in the spare bedroom of our house, because that’s where Ken and my children would sleep some day. I told her how full she had made my life, because there really is no other adequate word to describe the life my mother gave me. It was a life that was full. It was filled to the brim with love and support. Full of laughter and hugs. Full of Saturday mornings at the market and trips to Lowe’s and phone calls going both ways. It was full of movie nights. It was full of “I love you with all my heart”s. She told me how full I had made her life too. She said that I had given her things and allowed her to do things she otherwise wouldn’t have. I never asked my mother how she was feeling while in the hospital (other than physically). I never really asked her what she was thinking, because to be really honest, I was too afraid of the answer. That’s one of my regrets. I didn’t openly give her the venue to talk about her fears because I didn’t feel like I knew how to respond. I didn’t ask because I imagine that I knew how she was thinking and feeling, but was too afraid to hear it out loud. Some of the hardest moment in the hospital came at the end. The Monday evening before she passed the respiratory therapist came into give her nightly treatment. I already had my bed pulled out and I was curled up in it reading as my mom and the R.T. chatted. Out of nowhere, in the middle of my mom’s treatment, she removed her breathing mask, grabbed the R.T. hand (at this point, the R.T. had become like a friend) and said “I’m afraid I’m going to die tonight.” I couldn’t say anything other than I love you to her, because the truth was, at the point, she could have, and she would four days later. Nothing can prepare you for a moment like that. We are programmed to diffuse situations, to find the positive. We are programmed to say things like “It’s going to be O.K.” or “Don’t say that, you’re going to be fine.” Only my mother wasn’t going to be fine. My mother was going to die, and we were all expected, including her, to be prepared for that and accept it. It is the first time in my life where I have faced something I could not change. It’s the first time that I have had absolutely no control.