Goin pro

Lately in my teaching profession, I've noticed I've hit "bulldozer" mode. I say bulldozer mode, because I have this sense that I'm plowing through a number of obstacles through out my day, without really noticing the severity, the comedy, the seriousness, or the grossness of what I'm actually dealing with.

Take Tuesday, for example. Now, I think it's safe to say that all teachers-no matter what they teach-have several decisions to make during the day, and all kinds of unpredictable events pop up. In all reality, no day is a "typical" day. So, I'm not saying that my Tuesday was any more crazy than any one else's Tuesday. However, it wasn't until I got home that I realized what I had just bulldozed my way through.

I started my class by collecting my student's daily "red folders" that go home each night for parents to peruse my class info. I was pleasantly suprised to open a red folder from my student who had artistically spread poop all over the inside of the folder. I asked him immediately what happened, and he replied, "um. thank me?". These are 3 of 10 words in this little muchkins vocab. So, I was actually just kind of impressed that he spoke. I quickly corrected him "No. it's Thank you". He repeated me, the correct phrase, and was quickly rewarded a smile and pat on the shoulder for his correct usage of the word.

Shortly after, one of my students threw up all over his shirt, but made it to the garbage can for the clean up. Wow! He made it to the garbage can! We all celebrated. There were cheers, hugs, and lots of high fives. I had to quickly stop the high five giving when the blind student joined in. (Kids exchanging excited high-fives to a blind student typically ends in someone getting slapped in the face. We all know from experience.)

Then circle time on the carpet that is my comfy shag rug. All of the big kids know to sit just right as to block my little carpet eater from pulling large pieces of lint and sticking them up his nose or down his throat or in places I don't need to mention here. I am calmed by the grinding sound of one the kids chewing his chewie toy. A contraption that is keeping him from biting the kid next to him. I am so thankful for that chewie toy.

I start singing my "Hello" song, and the students hum along. I sing like I am center stage with a huge smile on my face. I kind of get into it, and they love it. All of a sudden I hear a loud grunt and a shoe is thrown at my head from across the room. One of my student's blocks the shoe with his hand. "WOW! Nice job!" I say. And he smiles. With all three teeth.

So, as I sat down to write this, I was planning on sharing the full day's events. Not necessary. This is just a taste of what I reflected on after a long days work. Like everyone else's job: you just do whatever works. And I think I could "go pro" when it comes to getting that down.

Can you guess which student is mine?

I'll give you a clue: he's looking right at you.

Any kid can sing in a 5th grade musical.....

....But not all kids can do it while holding imaginary binaculars.

I am the luckiest gal to get to work with such cool kids.

In the amount of time it takes to watch two movies...

...we ran a marathon! I know, we're nuts. "Why would you put yourself through that?", you may be asking. We asked ourselves that very question around mile 25. The answer: because we can. Our legs work, our lungs work, we're in our late 20's and...why not?

I don't want to be one of those "runners" that talk about running with a twinkle in their eye like they're the only ones on the planet that have the ability to keep a pace going for more than 20 minutes. The truth is: anyone can do it. You just have to try it.

Back to race day. After 6 months of training, we got up at 5:15 on Sunday morning and laced up for our big run. It was dark outside, and the streets of downtown Portland were packed with runners from all over the country. We met 8,000 other people at the start line. The gun fired, and everyone started moving. It's actually pretty amazing to be running alongside that many people. Then, loud drums filled my ears. A huge band of loud drummers played for us as we ran the first mile, it was pretty incredible. I couldn't hear anything but the drums. I kind of felt like I was in The Lion King, when that huge herd of antelope-or was it caribou?-ran through valleys. It was a pretty incredible experience.

Around mile 8, Andy and I were cruisin, with 18 miles to go. Heath jumped in the race and joined us for 5 miles, which was really fun. She was so excited for us, and was super encouraging by reminding us what an amazing thing we were doing and how great we looked. She really put us in a great mood during, what could have been, the hardest part of the run (the middle).

Then around mile 23 is when we were really aching. This is when we hit the wall. We were totally out of energy, dehydrated, and pretty much every leg and foot muscle was shot. I've never seen Andy's face look so yellow and drained. We were silent-niether of us complained to eachother or tried to chirp a little "we're almost there". It wasn't worth the energy. We both knew how we felt. Of course, we both knew that giving up was not an option, and we would keep running together until the end.

Finally, we crossed the finish line together! We did it! I was so happy for Andy. This was his first marathon, and he was so tough! What a champ! We made great time: 4 hours, 10 minutes.

Afterwards, we were met with our biggest fans: Heath, Grant, and Amelia. They made the trek all the way from Puyallup to watch us run. We spent the afternoon together celebrating and relaxing.

Dr. Laura (from talk radio) says "the only way to increase your self confidence is to do something you thought you could never do". Spot on, Dr. Laura. I feel pretty badass.

uh, yeah...I can handle it.

It's been three weeks since the first day of school. I have eight kids in my classroom. "Easy", I thought, on that first day before the kids came. "I'll just do it, and then at 3:30, it will be over".

I'm learning that I have this strange perception of my ability to handle things. I naively think that I can do pretty much anything. I usually think in relativity to time. It goes a little something like this: "I can handle anything. It might suck for a while, but I'll just do it, and then it will be over." Like when I moved the queen size mattress up our stairs all by myself. I thought, "hmmm. It will be 20 minutes of frustration and using all of my body strength. There will be lots of manuvering, and I might get hurt, but I'll just do it, and then it will be over." Or like when I ran a full marathon, "It will be 4 1/2 hours of moving my body. I will get really tired and sore, but I'll just do it, and then it will be over." And so, it was this weird concept of perseverence that got me reved up and ready to go on the first day. Then the kids showed up.

Without going into too much detail, I will tell you that nothing could have prepared me for what was to come that first day. With my cute tall boots and my favorite pencil skirt, I walked up to the arriving bus to greet the kids as they got off the bus. (Yes, it's the short bus). I was blown away. I saw kids with disabilities so severe that I was actually a little scared of them when they got off of the bus. I was not the only one who was scared...they were also not pleased with what they saw. I was their new teacher, this was a new classroom, and most importantly, it was a transition in their life. And it is transitions that make them most uneasy and unwilling. I will spare most details, but I will mention that there was a lot of biting, scratching, screaming, throw up, poop, and lots and lots of tears. And the worst part was: it was not "over at 3:30". It was not something that I would just "do, and then it will be over". It was my job. Everyday.

The next day came and it was not much different than the first. I kind of wanted to give up and just let them sit in the room all day and do what they want. A daycare. I wouldn't get scratched or bitten, they wouldn't scream and cry. And I'd still get paid the same.

Then by the third day, I was learning. I learned who needed to sit in a certain corner of the room so that sunlight didn't touch them. I learned who needed to chew on something so they could focus. I learned who needed a garbage can next to them for when they had to throw up. I learned who needed classical music, who needed loud, repetitive music, and who needed complete silence. I learned who needed a little back rub and who needed to be completely untouched. I learned that giving up on teaching them is the last thing I could do. And that my job was more than something "to do, and then be done with".

Now we have had three weeks of school. I'm still learning about my kids and they're still learning about me. There is structure and routine, which is something I thought would take months to get. When I say, "circle time" the wheelchairs start turning and the kids slowly start to come over to me, moaning and groaning.

It is not easy, but, I think I can handle it. I really love these kids...even the scary ones.

We're in!

Here are some quick pics of our new place. We have a lot of work to do still, but we LOVE it! Enjoy!!

Coffee Gets Me Pumped About Life...

So two extra cups than usual, and I'm PSYCHED.

• Big Hunk and I celebrated our 3 year anniversary yesterday--Oh ya!

• Dean and Bonnie are visiting this weekend--Oh ya!

• Going on a sweet hike tomorrow--Oh ya!

• Moving into our new house next week--Oh ya!

(....our actual house is actually way nicer than this one here)

• Running our full marathon in 8 weeks--Oh ya!

• Me and my crazy twin turn 26 --Oh ya!
  
  

a great weekend and a new chapter

For the 4th of July weekend, Andy and I packed up our sweet ride and headed down to the Oregon Coast. We camped three nights in Cannon Beach. We were sure to include some of our favorite things in our little excursion: coffee, vino, hotdogs, a small town parade, a long run, a romantic fire on the beach, volleyball, and lots and lots of sun.

When we got home on Monday, we had quite an itch. A house-buyin itch. So, we did some fancy prioritizing, picked out a nice place for a good price, squeezed our eyes tight, and jumped. We made an offer and the offer has been accepted, as of an hour ago.

We learned two important things about us: we are great campers, and can make grown-up decisions, I think.