Free Time

There's not a lot of it at this moment in time. Kids are up at 5:30-5:45 am, so unless I want to be up at 4ish, I don't get it on the front end of the day.

I teach all day, run kids to activities - sports, debate, chess, lessons, church activities...

Come home to boxes and the remaining Muppets who rightfully seek my attention. But I am so tired, that I feel I am not giving them what they deserve. 

And now my lunch hour is being demanded...not requested, by my students. Pounding on the door. Upset when I leave to go to the bathroom, never mind that my day started with two meetings and I teach 3 classes back to back before lunch.  I find myself grumping at them. I know they need my time and love, nearly as much as my muppets. But, to demand it...  It is just not going over well with my exhaustion.

In one breath, I am saying to myself, "NO! This is my 30 minutes of freetime." I don't get it at home, I live in meetings lately (confirming my choice to NEVER go into administration) and I just need quiet. I need to quiet my head and make my lists. I need to breathe and eat my unhealthy food in my desk. Then my Catholic guilt takes over...these kids really need me. I know that they do. But there is a right way to approach things - pounding on my closed door is not it. And it is okay for me to want peace. I have an administrator who scolded me for not answering my door last week, feeding into my guilt. Sigh...I just need a time machine.

Ah well, ramblings. There are two teens in here at the moment. I tried to call my FF, but of course, they caught a run. My bell will ring, my class will come. I will tap dance through my 51 minute one woman show, before I head down to a meeting, only to complete the day with one more class. 

Then on to get the little girls - who I am keeping out of judo today because one of our Asst. Chiefs is speaking to N's football team on leadership for their dinner and I should really be there since the FireMan is on shift. Tomorrow is the Homecoming game, Saturday is the dance, although N is going to another school's HC with another FF's daughter. No rest for the wicked.

Happy Thursday! 

Dreams take Work

Anything worth having is worth working for. Right? No matter the fatigue factor or the exhaustion. No matter the stress or the time. If it is worth it.

As we move AGAIN and into our final, forever home, I am reminding myself of this. It is FINALLY in the neighborhood we have been looking at for YEARS. It is FINALLY large enough for our big family. It was totally unexpected, totally not where we were going with things, but totally PERFECT for us. And so it is worth it.

I am hoping to make our 2600 sq. ft. storage unit look like a home soon. I found my makeup this morning - first world issue for sure. But that allowed some comfort. I don't know where my comforter and sheets are, but I will find them before the cold sets in. There is an extra refrigerator in the middle of my kitchen, as we work to make room for one down in the game room that is currently full of boxes. I am hoping to make that space become usable soon. I am hoping to find stuff soon.

I am hoping to be able to wash clothes soon. We just bought an AMAZING new washer dryer set. LOVELY. 9.0 cu. ft. gas dryer...in my all electric house. Sigh...so we ran to Sears...and bought a new electric dryer for my all electric house...because that expensive new dryer is cheaper than busting up the concrete slab that the laundry room sits on to make that happen. SO...if you need a gas dryer - that I would never have gotten rid of...hit me up.

I am hoping to be able to enjoy life, most of all. I am reminding myself, that this time of work and stress and headaches, will be worth it when my whole family can sit at the same table, in the same room for Thanksgiving. It will be worth it when there is space for my kids to come home with their families and spend the night. It will be worth when I am the grandma and I can steal all of my grandkids for the weekend and they can all stay with me.

It is so worth it.

Sleep can wait. Grey's can wait. Grading can...oh wait. Sigh, still need to do that. I love this house. Now, I need to find it beneath all the boxes and tubs.  It is there, our home, somewhere. I'll do a tour for you soon. Who knows, maybe, I'll give you the box tour tonight. ;)

Happy Wednesday!

Clarity...

Sometimes life takes over. June 2014- Now 2015 has been insane. I'll spare you the boring details and hospitalizations. We are clearly not done, but I am still here. And in the grand scheme of things that is all that matters. Another school year is upon us, another 9/11 memorial has been celebrated as we vow to #NeverForget and my 40th has come and gone. And I am still standing.

This is my first post of 2015, and we are already well on our wait to finding 2016.

This past weekend I traveled to Colorado Springs, to the IAFF Fallen Firefighter Memorial. It was decommissioned earlier this year and recommissioned on Saturday. It is breath taking. Captain August Gutzmann, MFD, was added to the memorial and his granddaughter asked if I would join her out there. It took some juggling of schedules and my amazing FF holding down the ship so that I could head out there for the weekend, but I am so grateful that I did.  

It was hard to prepare for the ceremony and NOT put myself in the shoes of the family. It was a concerted effort to clear it from my mind as I got dressed. It literally took me telling myself to knock it off and just get moving. But, as I met the families and as I spoke with those left behind, it crept back into my brain. These families all knew it could happen to their FF. But survival tells you to place that in the not now bucket of your brain. No matter if the loss was 2015 or 1985, the loss was real. The pain came back. The wives, the children, the parents, the grandchildren all remembered that pain and grief as though it was yesterday. The ceremony honors the fallen, but reminds the living that they are not alone. And, more importantly, we have not forgotten.

I was very proud to be part of the Milwaukee Fire family. The Honor Guard and Pipes and Drums were AMAZING. I ran to our bass drummer to share in the excitement after the parade Friday night because the excitement was just electrifying. I was so proud of all the practice time that our pipers put in for the breathtaking parade Friday and Saturday nights and the absolutely chilling performance that was part of the ceremony Saturday at the memorial. It was an experience that I will not forget.


Since I am aware that images are far more powerful than anything I could ever type, I will leave you with these. 

Be safe and come home to us.

Knitting to Untangle the Snags in Life

This has been an exhausting winter break. 48s sandwiching the round robin of Christmas Eve Day, with a mandate thrown in on our shopping day. Sick little muppets and pup with Downs coming to join our pack - and all the preparation that comes with that! Cleaning rooms and baking cookies. Controversial decisions leading to my FF turning in his bunkers for bullet proof.

I needed something mindless. Reading can only happen when the muppets are asleep or not in the house. (That is a new thing since my hormone depletion.) Paperwork - yeah, I need to get to that, but have that scheduled for later in the week.  I needed something to do that allows me to unplug and disconnect, but still be around the muppets. 

O's current location as I type.

So, yesterday I ran to the craft store and grabbed some #9 knitting needs and some yarn and was all set to sit down with YouTube. Like a good member of the 21st century, I announced it on FB and one of my amazing friends from work invited the girls and me over for a lesson.  I think I was more polite than her usual EBD crew, but probably significantly more clueless. It was a nice break in this 2nd 48. Until O started complaining of a headache....and was hot to the touch. Never good.  So we rushed home.

And then I goofed up and started over.

I can cast on like nobody's business. Throw in that 2nd needle and it is like I have never used my hands a day in my life...and I end up pulling it all off. Hence the proficient level of casting on. 

My FF kinda snickered and asked what brought this on. Once we chatted he agreed.

I will never be my grandmother. I can see/hear her sitting at the kitchen table knitting away like it was nobody's business, while carrying on a conversation, making dinner and watching a Shirley Temple movie.  That will never be me. My damaged brain has stolen much of my fine motor skills from me, the beautiful baby blankets will never be coming from me. I will be more of a scarf and washcloth kinda gal...and I am okay with that.

I just want something to distract my mind. Distract my mind so I don't hear the buzz of social media causing concern or the cliche Dog with a Blog story lines. But, at the same time, I can look up and enjoy the giggles of my muppets. 

So, we'll see how this goes.

Waiting Through the Fear

Today is not a Green shift. There was no trade on. There was no red flu. And yet my FF is not here. I finished up the Christmas shopping by myself, which was not in the plans. I continue the cookies alone.  My FF and I were supposed to be doing that. We were supposed to enjoy this day as mom and dad, as husband and wife.  And yet he is not here. I am wrapping the presents he said he would tend to, simply because it gives me something to focus on. Lord knows social and main stream media were not leaving me be.

He is on lock down - last I heard - at the firehouse.  No shopping. No gas. They are on lock down. 

And I am TERRIFIED that he won't be coming home. 

Fires do not scare me, I completely trust his training and his company. Stray bullets make me uncomfortable, but I don't have nightmares about them. 

Mobs. Anger. Riots. SCARE THE HELL OUT OF ME! 

Two police officers were just shot and killed. NYPD, my heart bleeds for you. I literally have been sleeping my my FDNY t-shirt trying to send my love to New York.

I am angry at my community. My kids could die and there would be no public out cry. 21 of my kids have died - TWENTY-ONE - through violence or their own hands.  And where was all this attention. They were young and black. THEIR LIVES MATTERED. And yet, there was no outcry. 

I KNOW that our mental health needs are HUGE. I know that there is a SIGNIFICANT portion of our homeless population that is need of mental health attention. I taught psych last year and three weeks dedicated to the mental health needs of OUR homeless population. I KNOW we are tending to them properly. 

But, that does not mean that we as spouses of first responders need to worry about John Q. Public walks up to one of our own and kills them for no reason other the fact that they are public servants. 

Pigs.

Public demands for their heads on pikes. Did they do anything? Do they not deserve to come back home to their families? 

A life for a life? Someone sent me a nasty gram quoting good old Hammurabi. Bad move. YOU  FORGOT I AM A HISTORY TEACHER! I teach that Code in GREAT detail. But, if you are going to quote that and say we need to go back to it, please realize that there are HUGE class and gender differences that speak in direct CONTRAST to what this mission should be.

Life matters.

All of them.

They should ALL matter to ALL of us.

His life matters to me. He is my sun and my moon. He is my love. And I want him to come home safe to me.

I pulled out that DAMN NOTEBOOK, just in case. I don't want to have to look for it. But, WHY should I have to? Why should I not trust the people of my city to treat him with the same compassion and peace that he treats so many of them with, every 48 hours. 

Let him come home, to me.  To his Muppets.

I wait...

Hug those FFs tight. Nothing is promised.

Proud Momma

Just a quick moment to brag.  Sorry to those of you on Facebook with me, but I get to gush.

My boys are gaining some notice, aside from me for not having their room cleaned, and it is kinda cool to see it happen.  

Our oldest is at the high school I teach at. It was a drama filled decision, but one that has suited him quite well. After the first quarter grades were posted, he's #1 in his class.  Now, I realize that this is not spring of his senior year, but the foundation is definitely in place during this formative period and I think this is an amazing start. He is also being honored with an award this evening by the Milwaukee Urban League. I'll have pictures from that event after tonight.  It is nice that the world sees him as an amazing kid and it is not just me seeing it through my rose colored momma goggles.

Our youngest son is making the middle school rite of passage DC trip this spring.  He has been given the honor of laying a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknowns through an essay that wrote. He worked on that, draft after draft. He has also been inducted into the National Junior Forensic League honor society for his performances this season in debate.

Some days it is nice that things that I think are totally insane all around me, are actually falling into place quite nicely. Nice to know I am doing something right, even though it is the week before Christmas break and the whole world seems insane.

My FF is home with a sick girl. Here's where I am oh so grateful for this schedule. Hugs those FFs, they are amazing to have around.

Control Freak

I am a control freak.

No question about it.  I am working on, but I am unsuccessful as of yet.

My Christmas tree was a prime example. Since the kids have their own, I didn't let them help me very much.  And I undid what they decorated.

I must have order in my kingdom. Order and balance and complimentary colors.

The kids have their own tree, colored lights, character ornaments, handmade loveliness.

And now our oldest is going back through and redecorating what the little muppets took so much joy in decorating.

Kids learn what they see, regardless of what you preach.

Same is true for my interactions with adults. I am a control freak. I will indeed take over just so things get done perfectly.

I must have order in my kingdom.

I have a student teacher.  Older than the traditional student teacher, but very much a baby in their own right.  And the university that sent from has created a year-long student teaching program. This semester is referred to as "student teaching lite".

I HATE IT!

I must have order in my kingdom.

This diet student teaching simply creates one more prep for me, with no time for it. In fact, working with this baby teacher takes away my prep period.  You know, the one I use to grade, make copies, place phone calls to parents, plan, etc.

Because, you know, I have SOOOOO much time at home to do this.

It is killing me to turn my class over to my baby teacher. I tried to hide in another classroom to just let him teach, but I could hear my kids.

There was no order in my kingdom.  There was chaos and profanity.  And as I walked by to peek, my baby teacher was looking lost.

I know that there is growth. I know that there needs to be practice, but these are my babies.

And I am a control freak,

Wish me luck and patience. This is my area of personal growth needs.

I must have order in my kingdom.

On much more sorrowful note, please send your thoughts and prayers to Philly. Firefighter Joyce Craig Lewis lost her life in the Line of Duty.  Kiss those firefighters of yours. Tomorrow is never promised. Peace.

Life

Life happens. And you make choices. 

This blog got me through some rough points in my life - suddenly finding myself married to a firefighter, mainly. 

But, when life gets insane, I sadly tossed it to the side. 

I started to share all of the issues of my oh so routine surgery with this post.  I got the school year started and football and Infinite Campus and both girls in judo...and I was back in the hospital for a week. I missed Homecoming. I wasn't feeling right. Earlier in the week, I started bleeding.  Like heavy period bleeding.  Ummmm, yeah, all my lady parts were removed. After a CT scan, they found a vaginal fistula.  The more I researched, the more I realized no one really sees those. It is mostly found in 3rd World Countries and in older women. I was referred to a specialist. We were going to do a few more scans and decide if we were going to go with bowel rest - no food for three months - or a quite invasive surgery to repair the breech, That weekend was Homecoming.  J was on shift the night before and I was sicker than a dog. He went to the game...I called and made him come home. We went to the ER, were immediately sent to a room and I was admitted faster than I have ever seen before. The head of the department took my case and said he had never seen anything like this.  I was going septic. And still puking my guts out - they restricted my zofran.

Lovely nail polish thanks to
the even lovely Fire Wife Elly.

A few days into my stay, we did an NG tube, they decided there was a blockage. THAT SUCKED A$$! My gag reflex is so strong and you can't puke with an NG tube.  They got the blockage and were planning to leave it in for 2-3 days. Yeah, I made them take it out after 3 hours. Either they removed it, or I would. It was that simple. Fire Wife Elly was amazing and drove up for a few of those days, and sadly had to witness that horrible experience. She was amazing, I was not. 

After that god awful thing came out, I had one more violent bout with puking my guts out and miraculously, I felt human. I could walk the halls and handle the smell of food, without having to dash back. Clearly, the obstruction was a huge issue. 

A few more days in the hospital, including a fluoroscopy that had the residents running in to watch like any episode of Grey's Anatomy, without the viewing gallery, so they were all up close and personal with my nether regions.  If I had any modesty left after the babies, it was gone with this test. I realize that this test is NEVER seen in MDC, but holy crap. 

If you can picture the Ben Stein's character in Ferris Bueller, that was the doc doing this test. It was humourous. 

The fricking TEAM of specialist that had formed to deal with my crisis that no one could explain, suddenly found themselves with a mystery. The fistula that was clear as day - even my completely untrained eyes could see it  - had resolved. With no rhyme or reason.  I have my own thoughts, but that is for another day.  Suddenly, I was coming home.

This scared my FF, like no other issue before.  I have nearly died bringing three of the kids into the world.  But I think the docs saying that I was septic and they didn't think they would get me back...after the SNAFU with my surgery...after the 56 PEs...was more than he could really handle. He could have lost me several times over this summer/fall. Luckily, I am far too stubborn to go in such a mundane fashion.  We worry so much about them coming home, this time the shoe was on the other foot. Tomorrow is not a guarantee for any of us.

But, I have not been the same. I sleep...a lot. So not like me. I get tired so easily. I have never experienced this. 

The worst part of this - timing.  Murphy was clearly paying attention. Two days after I was admitted, my FF started a long term subbing position for a teacher on maternity leave.  Two + months of him not only on shift - but also teaching. That left me really having to carry the load at home, at a time when I could barely hold my head up after 4pm. Football, chess, debate, homework, church - really all falling in my lap at a time when I really needed to not be the strong firewife who takes on the world. 

And, sadly, THtH was neglected. I have some posts that I really need to get up.  I will get this bad girl up and running again.  I haven't abandoned her. 

Thanks for checking in.  For those of you who have kept me company through all of this, thanks for all your love, support and prayers. 

Love on those firefighters. Tomorrow is never promised.

Balance

I can tell already I will have to relearn what Balance is.

I missed a family party and tried to spend the better part of two whole days getting lessons done, aligning standards, now that we actually some to work with.  (In the case of my AP classes, I have MORE than enough standards to work with...10 pages for two preps...but, I digress.)

My FF took care of school supplies and he took the kids out of the house for me.  He is awesome.  And, he bought me a back-to-school gift...to help me shake the on-coming blues...

Tomorrow, he is taking "back to school" pictures for me so I can go in early and make my last minute copies, move maps that need to be hung, attach fabric to a table, creating a convenient hidey place for my mess, etc.  

He will also help me work through my guilt.  

I am always there for the kids' first day.  I always take the kids' pictures.  

And instead, he will do that for me.

Not unlike what I do for him when he is on shift on those most amazing days.

I guess this is a taste of my own medicine. 

He gets the extra responsibilities, but he also gets to be part of those memories that the kids  will take with them into the world.  And I will be absent from those pictures.  I will be at work. 

There are many pictures of me with
the Muppets while he's on shift...

Perhaps, it is good that my classroom needs so much attention this year.  It is a necessary reminder of all the holidays he misses without saying a word. There is that sacrifice.  He is absent from so many of those memories...or he is on ooVoo.  I allow myself to feel resentment during those times, but I forget how much sacrifice comes with that as well.

I need to balance my time - work cannot consume me.  But, I also have to balance my frustration over the solo parenting moments, with the understanding that he is not only missing from them...but also truly missing them.

Life is all about balance.

Everything in moderation.

A FireWife has An Epic Afternoon - with No Muppets

Well, truth and accuracy requires an addendum that reads, ALMOST no Muppets.  N is home, he has football practice that does not sync up nicely with my hubby's family picnic time.  But, being the teenager that he is, I am alone, for all intents and purposes.  

And this time of no muppets and no meetings and no revolving door on my classroom (My FF can vouch for me - I have an invisible revolving door in my classroom.  Everyone knows it is there, even though you can't see it.) allows me to actually work. I tried working yesterday, it was a shift day.  I can tell you that very little got done. 

So, I am off to organize my student teacher/field worker's binder and my AP Binders and finish my lesson plan standard correlation and hopefully find my sanity out of this pile o'craziness. Notice the Scat Mat - so the polar bears don't stomp on my papers while defending me from the blowing winds on the other side of the window.

Enjoy your day.  Take a moment to think of those who fought for the 8 hour work days and child labor laws.  Regardless of where you stand on the issue of unions, you have benefited from those who fought the fights that Labor Day represents.

Being a FireWife is So Not Epic

Epic

It is the word of the month in our house.  Things are either Epic or SO Not Epic.  There is no grey area.  There is no middle of the road.

And I feel that.

I am either Epic or SO Not Epic.

This month my FF has been gone more than he has been home.  There have been paybacks and days at the track and Hey, Could ya take this day for me 48s ALLLLLLL over the place.  

And I have been left to hold the fort down...while spending days in my classroom and nights learning how to breathe and handle these times. <sigh> 

I get something done and it seems so amazing and at that moment, I am Epic.  Whether it is in my classroom or with the kids or whatever.

Or, I feel like a complete failure.  We have not eaten as a family in forever.  I have been away from my kids more than I would like.  And when I have been home I have had SO much work to do, that I have been working while sitting in the same room or on the patio.  But not playing with them.

Or when my FF comes home after a 48 and a day at the track and fusses that house is messy.  

Or when my oldest has to ride his bike to and from football practice all week.

Or...

It seems like I am SO Not Epic more often than not.

And it SO sucks.

I would like much more boring events.  You know, just sitting around doing nothing. Just...being. 

I will get over this, I always do.  But, someone might want to tell the FireMan that the week of back to work for the FireMan when he has been gone more than he has been home MIGHT not be the best time to say, "Hey, what do ya think about me joining the IRL Safety Team?" if he has any hope for a supportive answer.  Someone MIGHT want to clue him in on timing.  Right now, I don't want to think about weeks of training in Indianapolis or the 4 race commitment (roughly 6 days per race) per season or the two 48s that would come from nearly every race. (That makes a minimum of eight extra 48s - not including his days at the Mile.)  Right now, I'd like to hold on to the last smidge of sanity that I seem to possess...while I prepare a binder for my SURPRISE Field Student who might be a Student Teacher, but is not sure...

Sigh...and two family gatherings this week.  

Custard will make it all better, right?  I am going to need a TON of Custard. 

Custard will make me Epic.  I know it will.

Won't it?

A FireWife's Epic Failure as a Mother

Recently a friend of mine from college sent me a message on social media.  We talk all the time in comments and on each other's walls, but only rarely do we message each other.  If I may so bold to summarize her message, essentially she asked how in the world I was so put together with 4 kids and a firefighter that is gone so much.  I always seem to take things in stride. Whereas she, with three kids and a husband with a more traditional job, felt like she was always struggling to get by...especially when he is gone.

You would think that I would have been thrilled with such a compliment, but instead, I felt ashamed.  I am not put together.  I am a mess.  I have metl downs and yell more than I would like.  I am impatient and snippy when I feel overwhelmed and under supported.  I am stubborn and pigheaded when I feel that it was "someone else's job" to do something...and I refuse to do it. I am not perfect.  I am horribly flawed. 

Even as I am writing this blog, literally sitting down in my living room for the first time since 6:30am (It is 7:40pm...on a shift day.) I am sniping at my youngest in my head. Why, do you ask?  Because she is asking about the Packer game while I am trying to type this post.  Mind you.  Her face time with me has been VERY limited this week.  I have gone back to work.  I was at work from 6:30am until 3:30pm.  At Training Monday-Wednesday from 4pm-8pm. (Oh so IRONICALLY, it was training for teachers on relieving stress through breathing.) Today, I had the most stressful training for a gradebook that I have ever experienced...and got nothing done that I needed to get so I am ready on Tuesday.  From there I grabbed the three youngest muppets...the oldest was at football practice...having to bike because I was at work...and take D to my dad's so he could take her judo.  We ran to Target because my polar bears had NO food in the house, picked up N from practice twenty after seven.  And I am home.  

So, snippiness, driving through rush hour after dropping off D.  (Mind you, this is after driving nearly an hour to make the 25 minute drive there.) B and O were singing as loud as possibly and clapping, horribly off-beat, to And All the People Said Amen by Matt Maher.  And I snapped at them.

Yup.  Epic.  Failure.

I snapped at my kids because the Spirit moved them.  

Fail.

But, my stress level was stronger than I was.  

Excuses.

The people driving recklessly in the parking lot formerly known as I-94 and the two syllabi I have yet to finish writing and the picnics that we need to attend and host even though I am SO not ready for that first day and I have so much to do. I need to pick up fabric for a table in my room and my hubby has to help me mount my map bracket and I need make 200 copies of syllabi and print out rosters and...

Breathe.

I am missing that part.

And because I am missing that part, I am missing out on the joy that my people bring just because the song that moved their soul came on.  Because I have let life consume me.  I have given up control to stress and life is now controlling me.

So not a happy place for a control freak to find herself. 

I am going to leave you know.  As my muppets are enjoying the Packer game...and I am trying to set up my last prep in my grade book.  It only has 6 pages of standards.  And each standard needs to have 3 pieces of evidence. And...I am trying so hard not to be an epic failure.  I am a FireWife and I am Fire Strong. 

Just not today.

Epic Firewife Return to the Classroom

So, yesterday, I shared with you the chaos that comes with organization in education.  I must have my chaos organized. But, it is still chaos, none-the-less.

This week is not different. I go back tomorrow, to the "organization" week, which has nothing to do with getting organized in the grand scheme of things.  It has nothing to do with setting up the new year, but instead implementing the new student management system, learning the new best practices that are researched based and better than the years before, meeting the new staff, rah rah sis boom bah kinda stuff, but nothing really to do with actual ORGANIZATION of anything dealing with the kids. 

And where does that fall...on the back half of a 48, of course, in true firewife fashion.  BUT, it gets better... 

I have a 3 night training...that might be amazing or might be  the biggest waste of time.  I have very little literature on it, so I will let you know.  What that means is that B will miss his middle school youth group kick off tonight, D will miss her judo class tonight and N will have to ride his bike to and from football practice for three days.  And I have three 12 hour days to kick start the year.  


So, Wednesday, FF comes home, nope he is need at the Mile.  Thursday he is back on shift and so I will see him Friday for sure...and perhaps if my eyes are open Wednesday night.

INSANITY, but we'll get through this like we always so.  Now, if only I had a time machine and a sonic screwdriver...

Back to School CHAOS

So, I have spent so much of the last two weeks in my classroom.  I think what happens is I wake up, shove some cereal in my face and head to my classroom for 10 hours.  No joke, no exaggeration. (so much for those over paid teacher theories, huh?  My first paycheck is 3 weeks away!)  I have unpacked and purged junk left behind my "new" classroom and organized and decorated and ...oh muh gosh.  But, I will be thrilled to have it all done.

We go back to work officially on Tuesday.  I will not have to spend my in class time decorating, but instead, planning.  I have 3 new preps this year.  One that I have never taught before and has only been taught by one teacher in our district and the other two I have not taught in 4 or 5 years.  It will all be great, but it will be so nice to just focus on the academics of it all.

So, please forgive me if I seem to be neglecting my blog, but there is a definite juggling act, especially as J continues his 48s to pay back his trades from all my hospital stays.

In the meantime, here's a view from my workplace...


Story
I have 2 cabinets and a drawer that are locked, with no keys to be found anywhere.  So, we took the 100 year-old lock out of an open closet and took it to a master locksmith and he made a key for me. I got the cabinet open - full of CRAP - and found a place to store part of my bibliophile addiction units, now to get plexiglass for the lower part of the glass door.  There is also a mystery cabinet - they are in a few rooms and NO ONE knows what they are for.  I was so excited to find out...but sadly it was much like Al Capone's vault, only worse...it did not open.  Something was broken off in the lock over the years. <sigh>

This class is enormous compared to my tiny little science lab that forced my kids to play the role of sardines.  I started with 30 desks...and then we looked at my class list.  49

But, I thought 47 would suffice.  And my Bossman has assured me that I will be at least 10 down from that...hopefully.

Here was the first look at my new class...30 desks.

Here are alllllll the boxes, well some of the boxes and a CRAPload
of extra cabinets and furniture and a TV??
See ya..

I was bored during football and taking pictures...
truly what I do when bored.
My class is in the section that jets out
so far, hence the extra space. <3 <3

My epic poster!  I AM the Force, Unleashed!

First impressions are so important.  I start with my door... 

I got 47 desks, 2 teacher desks, a SmartBoard, some file cabinets and bookshelves...and I am almost there. The void in the corner of the chalkboards...waiting for maps to be moved from my science lab turned history class to fill it.

So, I guess, I'll finish up later this week...and give you a better tour.  But, this explains my absence.

Now...send your good juju my way...I am back to work on Tuesday.  My FF has a 48 starting tomorrow...after which he heads to the track and back to work the following day.  Meanwhile I have a 3 night conference and 3 days of beginning of the year PD/Staff Meetings/ I have soooooo much to get done...all while trying to get all the muppets where they need to good.  Wish me luck.

Happy Sunday.  Hug that FF...kiss your muppets as they head off to school...and send in sanity keepers.  C/O TOO Hot to Handle Insanity Week!

Peace...

I Found My Words

Robin Williams' death turned the world on its ear.  We will see this again, but every time we do, we look at these people and wonder, "How?"

They have the perfect life, with more money than they can spend in a life time. The world caters to them.  How can they not be happy?  So many lost talents. So many lost lives. How can that possibly be?

Even though there are so many lost souls that the media spends no time discussing, what this should tell us is that there is so much more TO be discussed.  We need to discuss that these rich and famous idols, are still people, with the same failings and dreams and hopes and demons that we all harbor.  We need to discuss that mental illness, like cancer and so many other horrible diseases does not care who you are, what you Klout rating is or how much money you make?  Poverty or wealth, depression, mental illness and suicide hit all areas.  It rears its ugly head, without prejudice or bias.  Some times it runs in families and sometimes the atrocities of life bring it out in the happiest of worlds.  Mental illness knows no color or gender or social class.  Even those who have all the services and treatment options that money can buy, still succumb to its evil grip.  There are families that are destroyed and hearts that are broken and lives torn to pieces because of mental illness. 

And like the other million bloggers out there that are writing about this, we all have opinions.  Don't glorify suicide, others will emulate.  How can you mourn someone you have never truly known? White privilege.  What about the thousands of kids we are losing on streets?  But we all need to remember is that it all these lives that are lost are valuable, significant and our instructors.  We can learn from all of these losses.  THAT is what they all have in common.  We can all learn.

I know you are all tired of my soap boxes, but too fricking bad. I am okay being the squeaky wheel.

Mental health is significant.  I have had kids attend my classes and then take their lives as soon as they left.  I have seen my husband so close to that point, where I thought I would be certain to lose him if I didn't keep my guard up.  I have seen alcohol destroy families.  I have seen those people try to fight for their loved ones, only to lose them to the streets. I have seen the scars left in the minds of public servants who stay strong while others have their world falling down around them...only to realize that those images just don't go away. So many mentally ill walk among us.  And there is such a stigma and prejudice.  So many judgements to be made. So many suffering in silence, thinking they are alone.  Thinking that no one understands.

Some of those immediate responses are merely human, when we see someone suffering. Makes no difference if they are homeless or schizophrenic or manic or whatever.  We are unsure how to proceed or react or simply begin.  Fear from someone you don't know. Voices you can't hear are everywhere.  However, the path you take after that initial, "What am I supposed to do know?" reaction, is no longer a reaction, it is a choice.  Saying Hi and smiling.  Carrying happy meal cards.  Asking how they are.  All possible choices.  Just show the people of the world that someone cares.  That everyone is important, regardless of the socio-economic status or baggage.  

Think of how many people wanted something from Robin Williams - a picture, an autograph, his time at a benefit.  How many people truly asked, "How are you?  Are you doing okay?"  You never want to let your immediate family know you are in pain, because that brings unnecessary pain to them.  We just don't know what he might have needed, nor will we ever.  

We need to make sure that we reach out to our friends, co-workers, neighbors and even strangers.  Sitting and just chatting might be the most powerful medicine there is.  I might not be a cure all, but it might make a difference.  Something so simple. 

Take care of the firefighters in your world.  Know who to contact, who to call when you see that things are not quite right.  Don't be afraid to confront them.  Don't be a afraid to reach out, even if it is to a complete stranger.  People might just amaze you.  

I have written about suicide and depression before.  I watched one of my closest friends work through her father's suicide, to make the world less dreadful for those left behind working with S.O.S - Survivors of Suicide.  I tried to help my kids at work muddle through the heartache losing a classmate and friend. I have often talked about my fears with my FF and so many others on the job.  Please don't hesitate to reach out to any of these resources.

Some of the red flags to look for...

Please don't be afraid to reach out. If you are hurting, a loved one or someone you have never met in the real world.

Good-bye Genie, you're free.

Peace.