Indeed a big blur. I woke up with yet another splitting headache...not sure if it was due to the NCSU pre-gaming beverages (sadness! I practically passed out before it even began!) or the lack of blood flow in my head...also due to way too many cold ones and late nights recently. We have been going strong daily (and nightly) since Friday, the 23rd with no end in sight. Note: Drink more water, eat more bread, do more yoga.
But tonight was exceptional for one reason only.
Parker was born with jet black hair, a V-bac, risky birth, at noon on the dot, this day 2010. Unlike Kane, they placed him in my arms right after I pushed for the last time, and he looked up at me with the biggest and brightest, most hopeful eyes I have ever made contact with in my life. My God, he was perfect, angelic, and astonishing. Today he has a mess of scraggly dirty blond hair, wide world eyes, and the best laugh a baby could possibly have. He still manages to stir my soul with a single look.
Tonight we celebrated with frozen pizza, overly large balloons hanging from the ceiling, a richly designed cake, a handful of good friends and family (whom I always seem to call at the last minute when I put off making extravagant plans), and a boat load of napkins. It's too bad his birthday falls in the winter... we could have more easily sprayed him down in the backyard like we did with Kane. On the way home I found myself driving behind a Jeep with one of those Life is Good stickers plastered on the rear window and I laughed (like out loud) because it's true. Life is good.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Rainy Daze
I am FREE! It's 20 degrees warmer than I expected it to be, and instead of snow we have rain, but I'm free! Today was an awesome day for any classroom teacher that went "above and beyond" the land of CMAP. I don't care what anybody says, public school teachers should celebrate the holidays with their students. Not exclusively because it's fun but because we spend 8 hours with them 180 days of the year and we try to treat them the way we would treat our own children...at least we do our best without a pay-raise in God knows how long. Wouldn't you celebrate a winter holiday with your own kid? Even a Jehovah's Witness is playing a part in it all in some way, shape, or form. Seriously, think about it. Whether its at a place of worship or even leaving school early to avoid the celebrations...is that not, in its own way, at the very least, acknowledging the holidays? I mean REALLY. And what central office employee or board member or superintendent did nothing, wore nothing, said nothing, exchanged nothing, baked nothing, or decorated nothing in light of the season? They all have desks. I know they've got something sitting on it that screams Merry Christmas or Happy Hanukkah or rejoice for Ramadan, or Happy New Year or whatever! BUT oh no, we are the only ones that have to go to battle with swords of objectives and target goals, benchmarks, and interventions against the government to have a holiday celebration that involves food, parents, and an educational movie to prove that we are not "wasting instructional time".... "wasting time with kids"???? Has anybody thought about that statement at all? Why do we get the flack for wasting instructional time? What about the parents that are not supporting student learning, or the laws that are keeping kids in classrooms where they aren't learning to their potential because it's not the best environment for them? Where is the scare tactic litigation that is sent to these lovely citizens stating that if they don't start doing their job as moms and dads, or policy makers, that they will be given bad evaluations that effect their jobs as parents and employees for the school system? I am a good teacher (there's data to support that claim so it can't be considered bragging if it's a factual statement that is supported with clear and consistent evidence), and I love my job. It's not even possible for me to be wasting instructional time with the kids. Never. They are not just a job that I have to prove I'm good at. I live and breathe in that classroom all day long and they are right next to me...looking at me, with hope, as their fearless leader that would jump in front of a bullet for any of them. They are just kids that need to be lovingly taught how to be successful and confident life-long learners. There are so many other factors that would make us "better teachers" or help the students learn more in shorter amounts of time... So many other factors that it begins to have nothing to do with time at all.... but once again, it's our fault, not the parents, not the government, and we have to own that or our jobs are at risk.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Seven
How did that happen??? There are seven days until Christmas and ten days until Parker's first birthday, and I found another grey hair. UGH. It's.. I mean I just... geez. Can't even write a blog on this. Totally unintelligible at the moment anyway.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Food Lion
I was leaving church when one of the other members stopped in to tell us there had been a shooting at the local Food Lion in town. We were told the shooter was still at large. What must of looked typical of small town residents the men quickly called their families to share the news and instruct them to lock the doors. I followed suit as well. On the way home I drove past a house with several cop cars surrounding it and no flashing lights. I found out later the gun man was suspected to have been holding up in the house which apparently wasn't the case.
As I got home my wife and I talked about it some more and even called neighbors to see if they knew of anything. We watched a news clip and when a local cashier came on to tell his side of the event we in unison said "I know him". I guess that was the shock of it all, in what most would consider cliche that same cashier's mother was later filmed crying and could only muster the strength to say "This type of thing just doesn't happen", she stopped short of "here". I don't know if she was realizing it does and did happen here or just couldn't finish the sentence. I can't speak for my wife but I do know I was a little uneasy as we lay in the living room watching TV. This sort of thing had only happen to me once before as a middle school child. I had came home after school to hear on the news a man with a knife had been spotted running through a neighborhood behind mine. It's a scary feeling and in some ways a bit silly I guess, to know a senseless act has just occurred in your home town and the perpetrator is still at large. The probability of that said monster breaking into your home and yet you still feel vulnerable and in some ways violated. All the same I passed out on my couch for a night of sleep.
Today I had to stop in and pick up some food for the dogs and pumpkin for the puppy, she's not feeling well. We only have two grocery stores in town and as I am partial to Food Lion. I've never stepped foot in the other, to me it's too foreign now to switch. I pulled in the parking lot not sure of how I would act. My wife had said it looked busy when she passed and so "was safe". Why did that statement seem so ridicules and yet appropriate now? As I stepped out of my car I wondered if my dress shirt and pants would make me look like a reporter. I had never worried about that before. As I walked up to the front door I just felt out of place. This store was no different physically then it was two days ago for the same pumpkin run. Now though the lights seemed brighter and oddly there seemed to be more staff. As I walked the isles there were men, barely old enough to be called that stocking shelves together, joking and laughing. I crossed to another isle and caught glimpse of a group of cashiers standing with the front end manager and one of the shift or store managers, they too were laughing. Had three people not been shot here the day before? Should I be happy these people seemingly were able to cope with this new reality. Was this not as momentous as it seemed? I had forgotten a cart or hand basket and so you can imagine my walk up to the register with four cans of chicken, 3 cans of pumpkin and a 30lb bag of dog food made me look pretty comical. I didn't recognize the girl at the register, I'm guessing she was new. She made a comment about dog's eating more then us and I remarked something about how the bag wouldn't make it through a week. I had wrestled with whether to ask what had happened, I could see a boy telling the story at another register. At least he was animated about whatever he was talking about as if telling a tale of knights and dragons. I presented my MVP card so I wouldn't miss out on my "dealz" as the cashier reminded me and I paid for my loads of dog food.
As I gathered up my food now thankfully in a bag and tossed the 30lbs over my shoulder I turned around to walk out and that's when I caught glimpse of her. A security guard. In that instant I caught her eye and she shot back a cocked smile to be polite but that almost seemed to say "I'm not sure why I'm here either". She was a late 20's African American female with what looked like a freshly pressed or brand new security guard uniform. She looked as awkward as I would at her family reunion. I kept walking, almost faster as if the presence of the security guard had changed the atmosphere and I wanted to get out faster. As I loaded up the car and got in I thought "Did all of this really happen?"
The answer is "yes" it did, in an instant a small town was rocked by what was essentially a horrible domestic dispute and the details didn't help the case. Two African American males who worked together and were "partners" as the news seemed to make a point to continually reference. As if there wasn't enough gossip around the incident. Wendell has roughly the population of 7 thousand people and this type of thing does change a town this small. As patrons of the store we did wonder if it could of been us, for God's sake there's only two grocery stores actually in town. I will probably forget about the shooting after awhile and continue on with living here the same as I always have but for now I have to say like so many grieving witnesses and shocked residents before me despite knowing it's not true. "These things just don't happen here".
As I got home my wife and I talked about it some more and even called neighbors to see if they knew of anything. We watched a news clip and when a local cashier came on to tell his side of the event we in unison said "I know him". I guess that was the shock of it all, in what most would consider cliche that same cashier's mother was later filmed crying and could only muster the strength to say "This type of thing just doesn't happen", she stopped short of "here". I don't know if she was realizing it does and did happen here or just couldn't finish the sentence. I can't speak for my wife but I do know I was a little uneasy as we lay in the living room watching TV. This sort of thing had only happen to me once before as a middle school child. I had came home after school to hear on the news a man with a knife had been spotted running through a neighborhood behind mine. It's a scary feeling and in some ways a bit silly I guess, to know a senseless act has just occurred in your home town and the perpetrator is still at large. The probability of that said monster breaking into your home and yet you still feel vulnerable and in some ways violated. All the same I passed out on my couch for a night of sleep.
Today I had to stop in and pick up some food for the dogs and pumpkin for the puppy, she's not feeling well. We only have two grocery stores in town and as I am partial to Food Lion. I've never stepped foot in the other, to me it's too foreign now to switch. I pulled in the parking lot not sure of how I would act. My wife had said it looked busy when she passed and so "was safe". Why did that statement seem so ridicules and yet appropriate now? As I stepped out of my car I wondered if my dress shirt and pants would make me look like a reporter. I had never worried about that before. As I walked up to the front door I just felt out of place. This store was no different physically then it was two days ago for the same pumpkin run. Now though the lights seemed brighter and oddly there seemed to be more staff. As I walked the isles there were men, barely old enough to be called that stocking shelves together, joking and laughing. I crossed to another isle and caught glimpse of a group of cashiers standing with the front end manager and one of the shift or store managers, they too were laughing. Had three people not been shot here the day before? Should I be happy these people seemingly were able to cope with this new reality. Was this not as momentous as it seemed? I had forgotten a cart or hand basket and so you can imagine my walk up to the register with four cans of chicken, 3 cans of pumpkin and a 30lb bag of dog food made me look pretty comical. I didn't recognize the girl at the register, I'm guessing she was new. She made a comment about dog's eating more then us and I remarked something about how the bag wouldn't make it through a week. I had wrestled with whether to ask what had happened, I could see a boy telling the story at another register. At least he was animated about whatever he was talking about as if telling a tale of knights and dragons. I presented my MVP card so I wouldn't miss out on my "dealz" as the cashier reminded me and I paid for my loads of dog food.
As I gathered up my food now thankfully in a bag and tossed the 30lbs over my shoulder I turned around to walk out and that's when I caught glimpse of her. A security guard. In that instant I caught her eye and she shot back a cocked smile to be polite but that almost seemed to say "I'm not sure why I'm here either". She was a late 20's African American female with what looked like a freshly pressed or brand new security guard uniform. She looked as awkward as I would at her family reunion. I kept walking, almost faster as if the presence of the security guard had changed the atmosphere and I wanted to get out faster. As I loaded up the car and got in I thought "Did all of this really happen?"
The answer is "yes" it did, in an instant a small town was rocked by what was essentially a horrible domestic dispute and the details didn't help the case. Two African American males who worked together and were "partners" as the news seemed to make a point to continually reference. As if there wasn't enough gossip around the incident. Wendell has roughly the population of 7 thousand people and this type of thing does change a town this small. As patrons of the store we did wonder if it could of been us, for God's sake there's only two grocery stores actually in town. I will probably forget about the shooting after awhile and continue on with living here the same as I always have but for now I have to say like so many grieving witnesses and shocked residents before me despite knowing it's not true. "These things just don't happen here".
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Things I Adore!
My husband. His eyes. How he shaves, and then an hour later needs to shave again. The way he fixes my car in the dark...over and over and over again...Our children. A "happy bowl". "Can you get me more dressed?" All things Christmas. My team at work. Pirate football. All things ECU. State games...especially tailgaiting. Baking with my mom. Drinking with my dad. My dad...and his home in Verona. Poker with Lex. Baths. Books. Fires on cold wet winter nights. Autumn. Kids. Blowing Rock in October. Small cabins. Playing cards with Josh. Movies. Teaching. Animals (most of them). Coloring. Painting. Pottery. Church. Antiques. Geneology. Geology. MacGyver. Music. Old trucks. Writing. Europe. The beach. The mountains. Pizza. Steak. Ribs. Corn on the cob and turkey legs from the fair. The fair. Road Trips. Bad Teacher. Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Superbad. Harry Potter. Lord of the Rings. Coolers full of drinks. The pool. Classic rock. Thunderstorms. Chips and dip. Seafood. Summer nights. Star studded skies. Camping. Long walks. Great pictures. Letters in the mail. Crime shows. Sailing. Surf fishing. Boating. Kayaking. Running. 70 degree weather. Sleep. Research. Hilsbourough St. Ice cream. Smart people. Old people. Make-up. Sensual Amber lotion. Nail polish. Braids. Watching sports. Watching people. The mall. Pink. Red. Skittles. Coke. Old t-shirts. Bdubs. Cookouts. Fireworks. Sunflowers. Family. Roses. Cigars. Chocolate. "The Thinking Spot". Rock hopping in Montreat. Montreat. The Dominican Republic. Barcelona. Rome. WRPC. PCM. CBC. YMCA. Windy days. Kites. Saying the Pledge of Allegiance every morning. Praying. Scripture. Studying with Josh. Libraries. "The House" My dogs. My cat. Dwarf siberian hamsters. Balloons. Trampolenes. Payday. Sports bars for football with Josh. Tats. Pedicures. Going to college. Foot rubs. Sons of Guns. Popcorn Jelly Belly beans. Cinnamon buns. Big breakfasts. Snow. Lava lamps. Collecting seashells. Wearing Josh's clothes on nights and weekends. His smell. Parker's hair. Kane's eyes. "Mommy, I love you so very much in the whole world." America. scarves. Milkshakes. Savannah. Tybee Island. Girl scout camp. Ring pops. Dirt roads. Coffee. Hot chocolate. Hot tea. Sweet tea. Sprite. Dolphins. Carebears. Cooking. Ramen. New haircuts. New shoes. New clothes. Earrings. Country music. Horror movies. Climbing trees. Swings. Playing with the boys. Lake Hickory. 2 dollar bills. 50 cent pieces. Sweet dreams.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)