... and I shall call you.... Mini-me. (I hope.)

My principal must think I hung the stars. (Ok, let's be honest.... I helped. Ok... maybe I am reaching here. I swear I am not full of myself, I just have confident humor. I am really a humbled person. I swear, cross my heart.) I got to be on the interview panel for our new Math interventionist that starts TOMORROW. I was pretty broken hearted when the predecessor told me she was breaking up with me to interview for the PE teacher spot that opened up when the previous one retired at semester. She ended up getting it and tried gently to break up with me, but let me know we would still do lunch sometimes... I don't do well with breakups like that... Just ask my bff.

The first girl we interview comes in... with a hair cut, just like I used to adore (before I decided driving an hour to my favorite hair lady and paying $50 was overratted... and getting my hair cut period was overrated... ok, I just want to grow it out because it is flipping cold. Watch out for March. I'll get pissed and cut it again.) and wearing a cute outfit. She acts like she straight up owns the place (love) and instantly I have a teacher crush on her. I am sure she said a lot of great things in her interview and the questions, but all I heard was.... blah blah, teach writing at ACC... blah blah, teach vocabulary... blah blah Capturing Kids Hearts, blah blah.... for the kids... blah blah... language... blah blah connect with ESL kiddos... blah blah... background in language... blah blah... I rock.

Candidates dos y tres were great too. I am sure they were... but there was something about this girl that I just digged. Turns out, we hired her fo real... and her name is also my bff's street. WEIRD!? I just put that together. I hope she is ready, because I am going to latch on to her like stink on dooky. I really think we are going to SUPER get along. She is weird like I am, loves kids, jives the same way I do on building relationships with them, and sees the importance of language and vocab development. Girlfriend is smart.

That aside, I take what my bff wrote about a 21 day challenge as a throw-down... simply because I suck and am a quitter. If it weren't for my gallbladder taking a dump, I wouldn't have lost the 7 pounds I have lost.... I eat what I want, and my body in very panicked terms, tells me it doesn't want it in. Good system. Unless you can't find a bathroom.... different story.

She is going to blog about her projects every day. I have projects too... like, ACTUALLY do the dishes. ACTUALLY put away the laundry. Feed my child something besides frozen chicken nuggets, fish sticks or pb&j or pop tarts (In writing it really makes me sound like I suck ass as a mom...). So. Here we go. After I type this little ditty I am hitting up the dishwasher. I have both sides of the sink overflowing with dishes. I swear they were all clean yesterday.... I may just start there. ACTUALLY do the dishes for 3 weeks straight. If I have to blog about it, I may as well be about it, eh?

I can do this.

Ain't no one takes care of ya like yer Ma. True dat.

My mother is the MOST amazing and selfless person on the planet. (... and in this statement I also include my insanely awesome father and baby sister and younger sister as well.) Ok. scratch that... I think my family is the most selfless insanely awesome group of people on the planet. Let's rewind to the night of October 31. I wake up at 1:30 in the morning to the worst pain I have ever felt. No, i'm not lying. I've been in labor... i've been through childbirth. This straight up sucked. It didn't take more than about 20 minutes to confirm with my darling husband that it was time to go to the ER. We live in a small town, and the options are skim--skim--skim--skim for doctors. I mean, not even take a sick skunk I find on the side of the road to most of these doctors. This ER though, hadn't done us wrong in the past. We made an excursion in August when Daddy J almost chopped his thumb off in a Tim Taylor garage accident. True story.

They give me some pain meds, some weird tummy concoction my pharmacist sister calls "magic mouthwash" and do an ultrasound. The doctor comes in and tells me my gallbladder needs to come out. Now. They take me by ambulance (which was weird) to the hospital in Austin and we get to my room. By now it's around 6 am and Momma J is ty-yurd. I catch a few zzzzzs and Daddy J walks in exhausted. He hasn't been to sleep yet. We crossed paths as I got up, and he was headed to bed. Poor guy. A few hours later in trucks Mom and Baby J. She has taken off work, driven nearly 3 hours and picked up my son from day care and cleaned house and done some grocery shopping. I find out my Dad and baby sister are rolling in the evening, and that if my younger sister had had transportation-- she would have been there stat. Blood is definitely thicker than water. My surgery was a success that afternoon and I got home the next evening. Momma left today and just like when I was on maternity leave, I was sad to see her go. She takes such good care of me. I guess that's what moms are for, right? I want to be like her when I grow up. Friday (while still at the hospital) was my parents 33rd wedding anniversary. What were they doing? Taking care of me... What were they doing 30 years ago? Taking care of me... I talked to my mom today and told her I was sorry her and Dad couldn't go out together-- she said they wouldn't have it any other way. Cue the Kleenex!

Ok... but down to the real issue. ** stop reading now if you don't want to hear about people not checking on me. But seriously... it's a big deal. Especially if you know how my old school rolls...**

So we are on day 4 almost since my surgery and JUST NOW my boss has emailed to check in on me. (Oh wait... the school secretary sent me balloons... with the school's name on them... ) I have had 2 teachers ask how I was doing. I sent an email out when I got the balloons the day I got home from the hospital and just said "thank you for the balloons, thanks for checking on my classes... p.s. if you didn't know, I had emergency surgery, be back in a week... peace." NOT. A. SINGLE. REPLY. This makes my heart hurt a little.... ok, not that I want people wallowing all over me and falling head over heels sorry I can't eat fatty foods anymore and sorry that I had surgery... but really? Have a soul. I've had at least 7 or 8 people from the school I don't even work at anymore checking in on me. We call that caring. It makes me miss the W more than ever.... I miss the family I had there.

Well, that's why I am Jenny From The Block. I don't forget where I came from...

peace and fat-free dinners.

You don't get to tell me who to give up on...

I was told today not to waste my time on a student because he is nothing but trouble. This student has been in ISS more times than not this year, and is a clone to some sweet babies I have had in the past. I am a little ruffled because I never know when he is in ISS... that hurts my heart because my M.O. is a teacher that crazy cares for her students, even those that tend to get on the last nerve of most teachers. I ALWAYS visit my kids in ISS, even if they cussed me up and down and I am the reason they are there. That's why I usually don't have to send kids there.... because I build relationships with kids. I have not had a single disrespectful moment with this sweet one, nor have I had reason to get a little Bonquiqui. Yet someone else, who happens to not like him and has trouble with him is trying to tell ME that I AM WASTING MY TIME. I don't waste time with kids.... I change them. That's what I do. You may not like that he's coming to my sanctum, love, but he is going to be coming as long as I SAY SO. If you visited you would know, in my room... we love each other, we respect each other, we work together. The End.

Child, please.

I is writer... write? right?

My bff has a delightful coffee cup I admire a whole lot. It says, "Teachers", "Walk the walk, talk the talk, chalk the chalk". There's been a lot of talk for several years, but I haven't exactly done the walk. I was talking to a co-worker at lunch the other day about being a writer. His dad was a legit writer.... AND knew Dr. Seuss. Making me feel less than a REAL writer, he told me I just needed a blog. Cue steam from ears.... I HAVE A BLOG! I told my fuming brain.... the problem? I don't write in it much. I have conversations in my brain all the time that need writing down... they just don't. Like my dishes in the sink that need washing and my laundry that needs to be done (and ahem.... folded....). I think it's time I grabbed the chalk and chalked the walk that I keep talking. I can't promise they'll all be good.... but they'll be something.

p.s. My son barfed in his teacher's arms today and almost took out an innocent little girl eating breakfast. I felt bad for her.

Hmph. Stewing some thoughts for better things to come.

Now where is that damn chalk?......

baby dances for jesus

This morning my only wish was for us to go to church as a family. It's been a while. No kidding.... a long, long, long while. I grew up nearly never missing a Sunday at church. It's something I have been really battling with as an adult since I moved away from home. I can honestly say I have NOT been more than I HAVE been. Now that I am a mom, the concept of going to church has changed. I am going back to my roots, and I realize that if I don't instill in my little man the importance of going, it will inevitably be my fault when he grows up and doesn't understand the importance of being spiritually grounded. I for one, have been blessed beyond what I can imagine, and it's because of my faith I get through a lot of days. Well, this morning, I was adamant we attended as a family. Due to circumstances mostly beyond my control, I haven't taken Jax, or myself, since June. Daddy hasn't been in tow since Easter, and I had had enough of my little family spiritually spiraling out of control. We got up. I harassed daddy until he got up.... we got dressed... we made it out the door.... 20 minutes after 9. Did I mention the service starts AT 9:00? We pull up and there are very very very few cars in the parking lot. Are we missing something? We frantically plow through the doors to be greeted with a smile and a reminder that it's 5th Sunday so there is 1 service at 10:00 and pot luck lunch after. Coming to a pot luck empty handed is one of the deepest sins in my book, and my Nanny would be ashamed. Jaxon was glad he could run frantic around the sanctuary and at one point got kidnapped by the preacher's wife to hear the praise band warm up. He LOVED it. He loved it so much he ran up the altar front and center about 10 times... I was scared he was going to run through the band and touch all their instruments and break things... knock over the candles, pull on the ornate drapings on the Lord's supper table... but he didn't what did he do instead? dance. and he danced. and he danced. and he danced. He went a little Pentecostal for just a moment. And it was awesome. I also got some intense warm fuzzies I haven't felt in a long time just watching him up on that stage. Today, my son was dancing for Jesus. When is the last time I did that? I need to more often... Oh, and even though I came to the potluck empty handed did I eat still?

 Oh yes I did.

Two superheroes, no sidekick.

This is how it all started.... I met a fellow super hero in the spring of 2006. In May, our ways parted and  then as by fate, I met her again in the lobby of Hays CISD, as I sat nervously in a chair, donned in my outlet Anne Taylor suit and roach killer heels awaiting an interview that I PRAYED landed me my first teaching job-- only to discover, not only was she the interviewee fetcher, but she was IN my interview, and coincidentally... also a reference on my resume. The 3 people in that room that day would not only later to serve as some of my best friends and co-workers alive, but this super hero and I would also save the world together.... one writer at a time. 

To say I "got the job" would be an understatement, as I did not merely just "get a job." I landed myself a best friend, a teacher/rockstar/mentor/badass/student-centered/know-everything-whether-she-admits-it-or-not awesome lady person. She introduced me to the love of writing-- rather she brought out the little ember and made it into a big bonfire that would make A&M's look silly. She also taught me everything I know on how to teach writing. We are going to write a book, so Barnes and Noble (Borders.... RIP.... moment of silence please.) beware. It's gonna be big. Go ahead and get Amazon Prime now so you can get it overnighted for $3.99. I am serious. Life circumstances led her to need to take a hiatus... and life circumstances **should** have led me to go elsewhere. SHOULD. HAVE. I stayed. It was hard. I cried.... A lot. I also became really strong. I learned I REALLY could do it alone. I really was that smart, yet I still felt a crazy void. She's still on a hiatus, and I finally made the jump. This time away from EVERYTHING I know and into a pack of wolves. Hungry ones... with scary fang teeth. Like Kujo on crack. But you know what? It is a FIRM truth that God puts people and opportunities in my life for a reason. I think it's to bless people. My prayer everyday is for Him to use me as a blessing for others, and to bless me by putting those people in my path. He's never failed me since I started that. Yet I will say, my Jesus has a sense of humor that is totally parallel to mine, and there are surprises that do happen to come my way. 

Today, I got to be a part of a workshop I have been DYING to get a hold of for quite some time. My co-superhero introduced me to this book that was WAY abused with sticky note flags...

We used the HECK out of that thing. Last year, my tres fab teaching partner was a big Gretchen fan. I became to understand her a little deeper. Last week, my department chair announced we had enough money to send 2 of us to "XYZ" workshop, on the contingency you come back and present a training on the subject. I look down.... September 26, 2012-- Gretchen Bernabei... STAAR distinguished speaker series... blah blah blah. "I CALL GRETCHEN!!!!!!!!", I yell at her being the ONLY other one in the room at the moment. I get told it depended on who else wanted to go.... yeah, yeah. I tuned her out. I. AM. SO. THERE. I told myself. I wrote it into my AWESOME planner (yeah, co-superhero uno y dos introduced me.) and I was set. The weekend rolled around, and I went dove hunting (another post to come about THAT.... no really, I had a great time. No sarcasm.... really.)  and then stayed home Monday with a 102 fever and possible strep... (yeah, need to call the doctor to confirm that test...) I return to school Tuesday, try to confirm a sub... and the secretary has NO clue. The department chair? Yeah. She dropped the ball... never told the peeps in charge.... she apologized. Many times. I. about. lost. it. No lie. This was once in a lifetime for me. I haven't gotten to go to a training in a looooooooooooooooong time. My previous district had to cut funding and that is a place they chose to snip. Professional development? Are you for real? "Ooooh! let's not give our teachers opportunities to better themselves for our students or anything..." Ok. That's another story too. Stupid ADHD.... I swear. 

Ball dropped, we are 3rd down and inches. How are we going to recover? Well. The secretary at said new school likes me enough to make things happen. My principal approves it... then it gets in a holding box. Because the assistant superintendent has to approve.... the.... training. Oh. dot. em. dot. gee. If you know public education, like I do.... I just went ahead and assumed the mental fetal position and cried inside-- because I knew it was too late. The deadline to register for 1 of 17 seats left was at 5..... it was 2:30. nearly 3:45 came around and I got the email with the P.O. Jesus.... you are one of a kind. Thanks for the help.... swish!

I register.... I wake up this morning.... and I get to the Region 13 service center. I look and see a table, front and center. That chair is MINE! I scream and go for it.... There are 3 other women at the table, two I think are cool, and one that is dressed too cute and I can tell just by looking at her she is probably going to rub me the wrong way at some point. I ask if the seat is taken, and one replies, "No! Go ahead!" So I do. I don't want to be too eager so I don't sit RIGHT in front... I save that for my invisible superhero friend, vicariously attending this with me. 

 Yep... that's her on the left. AND her podium.... 
I am captivated all day long. She talks to me. She has me share my writing we do out loud with her Britney Spears mike and she tells me it's good. (Cue nerd laugh.... and snort.) Then... we take a break. And what happens?.....

Oh................ she SITS by me! (sorry cute teacher lady from somewhere in Texas I snapped. I was covertly taking this with my cell phone on the table and wasn't trying to get caught being a crazy nerd stalker fan.... guess my cover's blown, eh?)

I get uber ticked because I left my scissors book at my desk where I intended to grab it for an autograph. CURSES!!!! I am tellin' ya. I learned a crazy lot today. The whole time, I was jotting in my planner exactly what I need to tell my superhero.

We are talking about frantic jotting. FRAN-TICK. There are light bulbs and sirens going off.... I realize WE need to be writing a book.... WE need to be presenting workshops for teachers.... because WE are that dang good. Then we break for lunch. I get anxiety. I have no peeps with me to eat with. A 7th grader's nightmare.... One of the table girls pipe up and invite me along to eat with them. SCORE! I then meet up with 2 other teachers (now there are 6 in our posse...) and get shanghaied into their school van and we are prowling around Austin looking for lunch. (no lie. This never usually happens because believe it or not, there are some times when I "act" like I am shy. It's really just a Brown Recluse reflex-- because I am SO not.) We get back... we have some time... and guess what?

I ask her to sign my planner. She starts flipping through... my.... planner. She doesn't even make fun of my APB statement on the inside cover. We have a discussion about the planner and she makes me swear to email her the website to get one she likes mine so much. 

So now, I am in nerd heaven and spend the rest of the afternoon writing. And writing.... and writing... and writing.... and I remember how much I miss teaching it. The day ends--- all the teachers leave in a hurry.... and I realize it's me and a few gathering our stuff. And it happens.....

I get a picture with her. It's like I totally met Justin Beiber (only not, because he's creepy)... back, back. I feel uber complete... I just wrote the longest blog EV-ER and I am way proud of myself... I am proud of how far I have come as a teacher... and I can't wait to share all of it with my colleagues. 

Prepare to be glitter bombed.

 (Yes... I totally proof read this. It reads like my unmedicated ADHD brain. You're welcome.)

changes...

A new leaf is turning, and I am not feeling d-o-w-n with it at the moment. Ya know, I get a little irked when I meet teachers who really don't have kid success at heart. They just need to retire already and just sell panties at Wal-Mart. I have met some like that where I am headed... With it being 4:30 in the morning, I am so burned by it I have been tossing for hours. It's quite obvious I haven't been bitten by the writing bug any time recently, but the time has come. I wrote this a moment ago in my writing notebook and feel like it's only one thing that is about to come to roost. I am about to glitter cannon some folks and start flipping tables...

Why PBIS isn't BS...

It wasn’t until 3 years ago I discovered PBIS. Before then, our campus was a big proponent of Capturing Kid’s Hearts. I was always felt pretty stellar about building relationships with kids, but it was good to see there was finally a district push to get people on the happy train. I say this positively, but in all honesty, the during the days of the PBS training, I was less than jovial. I was a little over 2 months pregnant and green in the face. My big gulp of 7-UP and the giant stash of Preggo Pops and Saltines indicated I was not down with this and just needed to go home already. The fact that my other half/teaching partner/guardian angel/savior/bff already got me in the know with CHAMPs and this gig years before didn’t add to the excitement, because I felt I could teach the workshop.

Fast forward 3 years, and due to budget cuts, I have lost the instructional strategist who has keep me sane and feeling smart for the last nearly 5 years, and my teaching partner left me for to “take care of her family”, what. ev. Being a praying gal, I prayed incessantly for God to take care of me and to help me everyday, as I had lost my rocks. I wasn’t too confident I knew much, but He was going to show me just how much I DO know, and make me look real good at it. Well, that, and slapping me with a holy 2X4 to prep me for the hell I am jumping into this school year, but that is a different story in itself. There were several instances this last school year that really concreted for me just what PBIS means. It wasn’t really until they all slammed in my face the last 2 or so months of school.

In March, I take the walk of shame to snatch up my STAAR testing materials and my fearless leader, I mean, principal, tells me I am going to have a new darling in my testing group. She tells me, "We don’t know much about him, but this is the first time he has been in a public school in a while. He has been tossed around in foster care and has been in a residential facility for the last year or so. He needs some love, and I wanted him to be in your group.” When I meet Brandon, all 6’3” of him, he is being escorted to my room by our Focus director and our SRO. I am being told that he is going to be in our SLC, and that someone will be outside the door in case I need something. “Oooooook”, I say and pray that the day goes well. It’s true. That baby just needed some love. No one had smiled at him or showed him that they cared in his whole life. The second day of testing, he was with me and we got to talk for a while before the other kids came down. He told me that it freaked him out a little bit that all the teachers had been so nice to him. After those 2 days, I was told he was going to be in my class because we had done so well together. I never had a single problem with Brandon while I had him. PBIS did magic things for him. Being almost 16 and in the 7^th grade did not give him much hopes in societies eyes by any means. By the end of the year, he was calling me Mom, and sometimes came to me instead of wanting help from Focus. He begged me to be his teacher next year, like they all do, and I saw in him a changed child. Coming from such horrid abuse, being tossed around like no one cared about him, and being written off by most of the world, Brandon wasn’t supposed to be successful. But he was.

In April, Justin, a former student of mine 3 years prior, passed away the day after a horrid battle with Leukemia. Upon attending his funeral, I saw the “who’s who” of previous students. Ones I adored with all of my heart, and ones I felt like strangling a time or two. It was hard to get into the foyer of the funeral home, as I kept getting wrapped up over and over again in the arms of crying students. Boys and girls alike. They all went on and on about how much it meant for them that I was there, and then they started begging for me to come teach at the High School. I was told by some how I was “still their favorite” and you know that when they say things like that 3 and 4 years after leaving your room, they mean it. At least… you hope. As I make it to the entrance of the service, I stop to sign the guest book. As I do, 2 large arms wrap me up and begin lifting me off the floor. I spin around to find the tear stained face of Nito, a 6 something 300 pound teddy bear I had taught the same year as I had Justin. “Mizz Dub! He said, “I can’t believe you are here! It means to much to us, and I know it would mean a lot to Justin if he only knew you were here.  We miss you.” It really concreted to me that building relationships with kids makes a difference.

May rolls around, and Amber is in the office with the SRO, principal, nurse, CIS counselor and there are tears happening. Amber has tried without success to kill herself that morning by jumping out of the moving school bus window. She tells me this the next day along with her journey to Shoal Creek and being on suicide watch. The apologizes for not being at school, which I didn’t think much of because she had been in and out of homebound for one weird reason than another that school year. Then she tells me the one thing I won’t forget. She asks me if she can get her work from her other teachers because she is kind of in a bad place, and tells me she feels safe in my room and just wants to work in there for the rest of the day. Never being asked this before, I made it happen, gladly and she sat at my desk the rest of the day doing her work and taking breaks to do odd jobs for me. I made it a point after that to give her a hug and tell her how glad I was she was at school after that. By God, if she wasn’t in my class nearly every day the rest of the school year, more than I had seen her the whole semester.

There are countless others... I also think of sweet, sweet Juan who's dad died the previous year, won't work for me or anyone else, but says to another teacher I am the only teacher he feels cares about him because every day whether he likes it or not, I tell him I am glad he is in my class...

You may not catch them all, and while I DO think hands down I am good at what I do, regardless of what you think, YOU DO make a difference as a teacher in the lives of students. While it may not feel like it is your “job” to be their mom, dad, pastor, counselor, mentor, teacher, circus ring leader, etc. It really is. You may be the only positive part of their day, and having positive relationships with kids makes all the difference. If you aren’t aboard the train, you are gonna miss something. Big time.

What they don't know, is I feel really moved to share this story. Being a part of the PBIS "team" we are making a big presentation this week. Being the new kid in town, I didn't score voice time, but I think that may change after a powerful email gets sent I haven't written yet. 

My porch is a place I can let it all out, and safe to say, there is gonna be a lotta lettin' this year.