Self-efficacy

Every teacher in WA state has to take classes to earn their "Professional Certification" after a certain number of years. It's basically a series of classes and a TON of paperwork.

Before enrolling in the program, I heard horror stories about this program from lots of people. A few teachers have deemed it "the most difficult thing they have ever done in their life". One teacher even told me "I would rather go through child labor without epidural than do Procert". Nice.

I was kind of excited to find out what my perspective would be. Would I find it SUPER difficult, sorta hard, or do-able? It's been 5 years since I've been a student and not a teacher, so I was eager to find out what kind of a student I am.

On the first day of class, I raised my hand to ask a question, and kind of talked my way to an answer. Afterwards, the teacher said a quick one-liner, "Wow-you are one smart cookie, Megan". My face turned red after she said it, and for some reason, it meant THE WORLD to me. I thought to myself, "ya, I'm smart. This will be easy for me!"

Now, I am halfway through the program. It's not so bad. Ever since I internalized the idea that I "might" be smart enough to do this, everything has felt really do-able. It's so funny that it just took one comment from my teacher, and I feel like I can handle anything she gives me.

It really reminds me how important those little gems of reinforcement can be to my own students--and to anyone, really. When someone believes something about you, you start to believe it yourself.

Oh, and another thing that makes my Procert class AWESOME is that my class thinks I look like Giada from Food Network. I think I can see the resemblence. I might be a little more bubbly, though.

It was a great Thanksgiving!

Full of lots of baking

lots of gaming

some girl talk (real and wireless)

and quite a bit of snuggling

SNOW

I drove home from school yesterday right as the "Northwest Blizzard" hit Auburn. It was pretty scary, but no match for our Subaru. It handled the ice like nobody's business.

And when I came home, I saw Andy shoveling snow off our driveway, in a particularly perky mood (he got to leave work super early due to snow). And, even better, when I got inside, Andy had the place warm and sparkling. It was almost dreamlike. It was super clean, it was SO warm, the candles were lit (with my favorite new scent, peppermint), the fire was going, and I was one happy camper to be home safe and sound.

Later that night, I got the best news: School is cancelled. To me, hearing that kind of news is right up there with "you can have my pre-pregnancy clothes" or "you got birthday money in the mail". Yeah, it's a big deal.

So, we slept in this morning and made waffles. Then we hiked up to Starbucks and drank pumpkin spice americanos.

And, I've spent the rest of the morning mostly in this position:

Dealing with Disappointment

Disappointment. I babysat Amelia today, and the look on her face when she realized I was no longer playing hide and seek was the perfect example of it. Whether we are 18 months old or 27 years old, it happens. Whether it's disappointment in yourself, disappointment in your loved ones, or disappointment in your students-it always comes around. So why am I so surprised when the feeling sets in for the hundred thousandth time? And, my biggest question, WHY DO I ALWAYS CARE?

I wish so badly that I could really truly have a "so what?" mentality. I can be a crappy teacher sometimes, so what? I sounded really stupid in my Procert class tonight, who cares? I have a to-do list that never gets completely finished, big deal?



And then, yesterday, one of my favorite teachers at school (who is an elderly woman with the body of an 18 year old-yowzas) told me that on her way to school yesterday morning, her vision instantly went black and she had a small heart attack. Then she teared up a little bit and said, "I'm okay, though. I just get to be alive some more---which is such a good thing!"



After talking with her, it really hit me that I have a lot of things that I get to care about, and a whole lot of things I need to let go of. Screw dissappointment. The source of my disappointment is my pride and my selfishness. What a waste of time.

Life is good, and, like my sweet friend told me, I get to be alive some more :) Even though it's not picture perfect, who cares?

Purple pumpkin or Defeat

Today I was totally reminded that my job can be so TOUGH. There are problems everyday, just like any other classrooms. And some days I can figure out what the kids need, and give it to them, so that everyone's needs are met and we can all laugh and get along.

Other days, like today, leave me feeling completely incompetent. It all started with the simplest "direction-following" activity that involved students coloring a pumpkin purple instead of orange. For most kids, this would seem strange, but totally do-able.

But, I don't have "most kids". I have the "least kids", actually.

For one particular student, this slight change in the traditional pumpkin color RUINED HIS WORLD. He instantly became so angry that he screamed at the top of his lungs "NOOOOOOOOOO!!" (The thought of his yell sends shivers down my spine). He threw his markers at me and yelled "stupid teacher!"

Now, you might think, "what's the big deal? Just let him color it whatever he wants". And, oh, how I wish I could. BUT, the reason he is in my class is because he must learn to follow directions, even when he doesn't want to. And if I let him choose the color of the pumpkin, I have officially proven that I am inconsistant with my rules and therefore, he can do whatever he pleases. I couldn't confuse him like that. It just wouldn't be fair to him or me.

So, this was a battle I had to choose. And so, it began with name calling, then ripping of the paper, then what I like to call, "tazmanian nightmare", where he runs around the room destroying every and everyone in range. The remainder of the class became extremely over stimulated and stressed out. Everyone was panicing while chased the kid around trying to end the insanity.

And so it ended with me carrying him barrel style like a wild animal-legs kicking and arms flailing, through all of the hallways, kicking and yelling. LOUD. We were passing classrooms of quiet kids and teachers who didn't have to carry their students to the office. My heart was pouding out of my chest and my lips were so tight that they were nonexistant. I was angry, so embarrassed, and wanted to quit.

He sat in the office while I gaurded the doors (he's a runner) until the bus came. He was throwing chairs, kicking everything, and glaring at me. It took everything I had not to glare right back, but instead just turn my head and ignored him. Rough day.

The first thing that I did when I came home was blow up at Andy for the DUMBEST thing. He could tell I was losing it and did the total right thing: left me alone. So, now that I'm alone, I'm writing things out and it seems to be helping.

I can't stop thinking, "should I have let him just color the pumpkin orange?" Was all of this really worth it? The answer is: I have no clue. But I will go to work tomorrow and figure it out.

How much is too much?

So, like most blogs have stated: Fall is here. And, like most people, I am reminded that this is truly one of the best seasons. Now, let me cut to the chase: decorations.

So, one thing I looked forward to growing up, was coming home from school/church/playing and find that my mom put cute little fallish decorations around the house. Pumpkin candy dishes, plastic scarecrows, fake leaves, spicey candles, and whatever else was 50% off at Joanne's. I LOVED it. I looked forward to it every year.

My next point: Andy is a number one guy because he likes a tidy house-which he is super involved in implementing. Yes, Andy loves a nice, bare, sterile house. I am thankful for that...most of the time. He also kind of winces when I bring home a fake pumpkin to light up a corner of the kitchen. I see it as a cute little addition to brighten up our home and add some fall flare. He sees it as another item that might clutter our house, and, get ready for the worst part, need to be stored in a box for 9 months out of the year. Accumulation is his worst nightmare.

So, I guess what I am wondering is how much is too much? From couples old and young, I would love to know, is it worth the 3 months of fall flare to have to store it in a box and accumulate in your house? Will I come to a point that I hate all of the fall crap because I resent having to pack it around all of my life?

Yes, there are much bigger problems in the world than what to do with my "trick or treat" sign. Just wondered what people's thoughts are on 'accumulation'.

179 more? Yes, please.

Last year, on the first day of school, I didn't get home from work until 5:00.

Not because I was working on my spelling packets.

Not because I needed to plan for the next day.

But because I had my head in my hands and was bawling my eyes out. The kids seemed, to me, impossible. Too many needs in one room-physically, socially, and of course, academically. Not to mention, a few of them actually scared me quite a bit. Like, "When he gets hungry, I hope he doesn't beat me up" kind of scared. The job seemed too big for my little hands.

Somehow, I learned a little bit, then I learned a little bit more. And, by the end of the year, I knew who needed to learn how to "make friends" by not "pinching and biting", who needed to have some "red truck" time (literally, he got to hold a red truck for 10 minutes), and who needed to run 10 laps outside before every math lesson. And yes, I joined him on several occasions. (Don't worry, I beat him every time).

This year, I was expecting the same tramatic beginning. I came to school equipped with waterproof mascara and ibuprofine.

When I got the students off of the bus, the got their breakfast, and began the morning routine. Without me telling them.

When I began to teach the rules, two of the students were mouthing my words while I said them. (....maybe I went a little overboard on those last year:)

When it was time to do "end of the day jobs" and pack up for the bus, they put their chairs on tehir desks and mosied to the coathanger. Without my help.

The two kids that scared me last year because of their nonstop flailing arms and screaming noises sat quietly while I read "Froggy Goes To School" to them for 20 minutes. Then grunted/pointed for me to read it again.

I won't get my hopes up, here. Tomorrow will be full of suprises. But, today was a great first day of school.