Sometimes...

Motherhood.

It's a beautiful thing.

It's a crazy thing.

It's a messy thing.

It's sometimes a humble thing.

It's sometimes a funny thing.

It's sometimes a down right give me a hole to hide in thing.

But it's something that I deeply, fiercely love...this motherhood thing.

You see it all over Facebook, blogs, twitter, instagram...the struggles, the horrors, the hilarious moments.

But there comes a time when sometimes people just want and need to see the real-ness of motherhood.

So here it is...

Sometimes...

You might be on the phone to the doctor's office and they ask for the child's birthday that you are calling about...and you MIGHT tell the nurse that it is 10/12/14...when in fact the real birth date is 4/21/10...you MIGHT have mixed up  the other two children's birthdays with the current year. And this is why I wear a necklace of all three children's names WITH their birth dates.

You might have a son break out singing, "bottoms up, bottoms up" or "shake it for me" on the way to school....his Christian school.

You might see a tootsie roll on the floor and pick it up to smell it...but it's not a tootsie roll. I am sure you can figure that one out.

You might start the dryer 4 times...on the same load because you don't feel like folding clothes.

You might send your child to the babysitter in his brother's clothes...without a diaper on.

You might each of your children an i-Pad to "learn" from but really you just want 10 minutes of no running in circles and screaming at each other.

You might put your son in his sisters clean underwear when he wakes up during the night and you can't find anymore of his clean underwear.

You might bribe your children with a surprise if they will just smile ONE time all at the same time during family pictures.

You might have to clean pee off the wall constantly.

You might have a child try pooping outside in the rocks because he is trying to teach the dog how to poop outside.

You might have your child just get in bed with you when he or she wakes up at 2 in the morning and you simply just don't want to walk down the hallway to put the child back in bed.

You might have to confiscate a toy knife from your son's backpack when you are dropping him off at school.

You might be very enthralled with Paw Patrols only to realize that your children are in the other room...and it is only you and the TV.

You might also find yourself singing Jesus Loves Me and My God is So Big...to yourself...in the shower.

You might hide in the bathroom to eat a candy bar...because you don't feel like sharing.

You might call your son Sam...but his name isn't Sam...because that's the dog's name....over and over.

You might teach your child verses only to have her repeat those verses back to you at inopportune times...like when you are YELLING at the stupid dog and she says, "mom, be kind to one another. Jesus says so." And all I want to say is, "well, the dog isn't being nice to me."

You might have to lock your children out of your room just to have 10 minutes alone with your husband.

You might have one child going to the bathroom (#2), another child opening and closing the shower curtain, and the third one sitting on the bathroom floor...while you are in the shower.

Are you getting my drift???

The list goes on...but I can tell you one thing. Motherhood might be all these things...but it is the BEST job in the world. Because even though all these things might happen, I wouldn't regret one single moment with my children. And I pray that I look back when my children are grown and laugh at this crazy, beautiful, messy life.

Teacher Business

I debated on whether I was going to post this or not...but when I started this blog, I wanted it to be something that I can look back on and see the journey that I have gone on and the things that I have learned. And hopefully...maybe...an encouragement to someone else.

I have found that sometimes in the teaching profession, a certain kind of thinking takes over at times.

It has the power of turning "teaching" into simply telling. Telling something that you want your students to know in order to pass a test. It goes from one item to the next...you start "teaching" to the test....because we all know that those test scores are what tells us what kind of teacher we are (so we think).

So as a teacher, we work hard. We work hard at our lesson plans. We work hard making sure we have everything we need to equip our students to succeed. We work hard at making sure we have every assessment fulfilled. We work hard at putting numbers on spreadsheets so that eventually they make some sort of sense. We work hard making sure our students are learning what they need to be learning. We push our students. And sometimes almost to the point of breakdown. We spend countless hours before school, after school and on the weekends preparing for the our students. We know it isn't a 9-5 job. It isn't something you just show up for, work, and go home. There is paperwork to be done, papers to be graded, construction paper to be cut out (ok...so maybe this is just for kindergarten:)), papers to be copied, cut, and stapled. There are SLO papers to be filled out...determining our fate (ok so that is a little dramatic).

That's when the focus changes. Sometimes we forget. We forget that yes, those scores are important...those assessments are needed in some crazy way or another. We forget that those 22 students that walk into our classroom each morning are only ours for a little while. We only have a certain amount of days to make a difference with those precious people we call our students. We forget that teaching doesn't have to be just teaching to the tests.

And that is what happened to me. I lost focus. I was so focused on getting all the assessments done that I wasn't listening. I wasn't listening to what my students needed from me. It's easy to do. I stuck to my lesson plans...had to get through my lesson plans and get those items "crossed off" my list.

But the other day, something changed. Although I still had my lesson plans out, I wasn't glued to them. I decided I didn't want to be that teacher anymore. So I stopped, and I listened. I listened to Jane tell me all about how she was in pain because of a hangnail and when I clipped it she hugged me and said "thank you." I listened to Danny (these aren't my students' real names) when he just simply couldn't form his '8'. Instead of saying "well, just try it," I got down and guided his hand so he could see how to form that 8. "Make an S and close the gate." He smiled and said, "I'm so glad you teach-ed me how to make an 8." Ok, so we are still working on grammar, but still:) I listened to a group of my ESL students when they just couldn't put those 2 sounds together...they simply didn't know what letters they were. Instead of getting frustrated, we changed the plans and just worked on certain letters.

You see, I don't want to be the teacher that teaches to the test. I want to be an encourager. I want to be a light in someone else's darkeness. I want to be a safe place for my students to come to. I want to really know each of my students. Not just what they can produce on paper or what they can score on a test. I want to know what makes them irritated...what makes them smile...what makes them close down and what makes them come to life. I want to know which tears mean they are hurt, which mean they don't feel good, which mean they are being pushed too far. I want to teach my students that it's ok to fail at times and make mistakes...because we all do. But then we learn from those mistakes. I want to challenge my students. I want to give them courage to try new things and see what they can do and accomplish.

These children are watching me...they are watching how I respond to everything. single. thing. I want to respond with love and kindness...with understanding.

I have 7 hours with these children everyday. I want to challenge my students to be their best. I want to give them courage to try new things and see what they can do.

Yes, I will mess up...I mess up all the time (thankfully kindergarteners are VERY forgiving!). It is hard, it is challenging...but I can tell you one thing. NOTHING gives you more joy than looking into a child's eyes and seeing that lightbulb go off and then the smile that is plastered all over that precious face because they finally got it.

TEACHER

I've come to a frightening

conclusion that I am the

decisive element in the

classroom. It's my personal

approach that creates the climate.

It's my daily mood that makes the 

weather. As a teacher, 

I possess a tremendous power to 

make a child's life

miserable or joyous. I can be a tool

of torture or an instrument of 

inspiration. I can humiliate or heal.

In all situations, it is my

response that decides 

whether a crisis will be escalated 

or de-escalated and a child

humanized or dehumanized.

-Haim G. Ginott

PS- If there are lots of mistakes, I blame it on trying to cook dinner and chasing kids while writing this in spurts...:)

Loss

Yesterday was National Pregnancy/Infant Loss Awareness Day.

I saw a few things on Facebook...

But sometimes I try to block it out. Sometimes I don't want to remember the pain. I don't want to remember that day sitting in my dad's office, excited to hear the heartbeat of our baby.

It was 2 days before Christmas.

Sometimes I don't want to remember the look on my dad's face as he shifted from one foot to the other, searching for the heartbeat. I knew at that second something was wrong.

We lost the baby.

11 weeks into the pregnancy.

I prayed it was a just a bad dream and that everything would be just fine when I woke up. I remember crying in the office, holding onto Nic. And then I went numb.

We drove home in silence. No tears. I didn't want to see anyone....it was just Nic and I that night.

The next few days were filled with fake smiles and conversation...the numbness taking over.

On Christmas night, I felt the cramping start and knew that it was time to go to the hospital. I had the D&C that night.

It was the next morning when the numbness wore off...and then I was angry. I was angry at God for taking my baby from me. I was angry that He allowed such pain. I was angry that it happened to me. Was I just supposed to forget that I carried a precious baby for 11 weeks and just move on? At times I screamed at God. I felt alone. Although I was surrounded by family, I felt that they couldn't possibly understand the pain. I was the one who carried the baby.

This is also when the tears started...and didn't stop for a long time. Before this, I never really heard of women miscarrying, although I knew it was a possibility...but didn't think it could be a possibility for me. I thought I did something to make this happened. The burden of guilt had set in and I just kept questioning myself on what I did wrong that made me lose my baby.

As the weeks went on, women began to come to me...some that I have never met before. They prayed with me and for me. They encouraged me with their own stories. I remember thanking each of them for sharing with me. I remember being relieved in a way that I wasn't the only one that has gone through this pain.

There was one night in particular that I remember vividly. I went into the baby's room, sat on the chair, and begged God to take the pain away. I remember crying out to him asking that He would give me peace. I remember giving everything to God that night. I had to believe that there was some plan in all this.

When I left the room, there was a peace I can not explain. It was almost as if God whispered, "everything will be OK. I am with you." And I knew I would be OK.

And I knew He had a plan.

You see, my family and I went out for my birthday December 22nd. I begged my dad to take me in so I could see an ultrasound of the baby. He said to wait until the next day. We enjoyed the rest of my birthday dinner and the rest of that evening. God knew. I found out about the loss on the 23rd. We were off from school for Christmas break. God knew I would need those next two weeks. My brother and sister-in-law were leaving the day after Christmas for their new life in Arizona. God knew I would need my family by my side.

God knew.

Although the pain has never left, it isn't as sharp as it was before. And although I don't always want to remember those dark days, I am always reminded of God's peace and the beauty that comes from pain. Those days after I gave everything over to God, I clinged to God like I needed air. I held onto His promises. I never experienced real loss until December 23, 2007. Somehow my relationship with Him became more real. And I knew He held my hand and would guide me through the questions and the pain.

I didn't understand. But I learned to just trust God. When my heart starts hurting when I think of this time in my life, I remember Hayden. Yes. Hayden...born 10 months after I lost my first baby.

I remember God has a plan...even through such heartache.