Baby Blog Part II: Updates and Explanations

Same song, different verse as last year.

After Christmas I will be returning to teaching 7th graders. I can’t say I have a lot of faith in this principal. They say first impressions can be deceiving and although I knew him as a coach when I attended the school, lets hope it holds true in this case. Annoyance was the first emotion to cross my mind. The principal at the high school called me around Thanksgiving to tell me "unofficially" that I would be moved to the junior high when I came back from maternity leave. She was letting me know that the Superintendent would be calling to let me know officially any day. He never called. So the last week of school before Christmas, I called the high school principal back to see what was going on and to see if I could get her permission to call (since she was the only one who mentioned it and it was sort of off the record) and ask what was going on. She said she sat next to the attendance center (K-8 grades) principal and he had mentioned to her that he hadn’t called me yet and he definitely needed to get on that. I called the school and left a detailed message for him with the secretary, since he was not available the three other times I called and was told to check back later. Three days passed and he still hadn’t called me back. It was the last day of school and it was 60% day. I was supposed to go by the high school after the students left and show off Jake. One of the teachers told me to go down there and confront him in person. They were only too happy to watch Jake for me and so I left to go across the street and see what was going on with my job. I met the assistant principal at the door—I introduced myself by my last name and she said oh yeah, your—and then mispronounced my first name. I corrected her on the pronunciation of my first name and then she said oh yeah and called me by my maiden name. I don’t know this woman so I am not sure how she knew my maiden name, especially since she mispronounced my first name, but managed to pronounce my maiden name correctly. I had just introduced myself by my married last name, so once again I corrected her. Everyone seemed oblivious to the fact that I was on maternity leave and that no one had officially contacted me about working there. They were planning on me just magically knowing I need to show up on January 6th (telepathy wasn’t on my resume, but I get the feeling my principal has never read my resume). My impressions so far are that things will be about the same as last year except most of my 7th graders will be white, my school has walls, I will be teaching World History and I don’t have Elizabeth to go to for help and support. Once again things seem sadly disorganized, the children do not seem to have grade level skills, and other teachers don’t seem to have high expectations or qualifications. This just backs up my theory that education is lacking all over the state, not just in the Delta. Several times I was told not to worry about anything until staff development in January. Apparently, according to everyone I have talked to, including some of the administration, teaching World History is not hard. In fact I have been told by two different people not to assign homework because they will have enough work in their other classes (implying I am not teaching a "real" subject). It is almost as if they are afraid I will turn out to be a real teacher (I am replacing a coach who they moved to the high school to teach Drivers Education). We will see how it goes sooner than I would like to think about so I will now move on to more important subjects…

…Excuses, Excuses…
Even though I was visiting Baby Jake every 4 hours in the NICU the first week of his life, I still found time to write the book on our labor and delivery. However, I still had plenty of adrenalin and was having trouble sleeping. Now that Jake is home I am still having trouble sleeping, but now it is for an entirely different reason. So needless to say I have been having trouble getting anything done, except feeding Jake 24 plus times a day, changing him, holding him, etc. James is off for the New Year Holidays and he took care of Jake this morning and Jake actually slept for 5 ½ hours last night and I got some much needed sleep. Now that I feel rested for the first time in quite a while, I will finish the Jake story. We finally got internet connected and so hopefully some of the 14 million pictures James, my mom and I have taken will find their way to this blog. I know that every mother thinks their child is the cutest baby in the world, but I am sure mine is and I have the pictures to prove it! In all seriousness, he changes so fast that I am afraid I will forget what he looked like at each stage. After putting him down to sleep one night, James and I were looking through some of the digital pictures we had printed and I started crying because he doesn’t look like that anymore, even though they were taken only a week before. I also started crying when I picked out a pair of pajamas for him and they were too small for him. He had never even worn them! I feel like he is growing and changing so fast. It seems like every day he can do something new. He was born with neck control, at three weeks he could bat and grab at animals on his mobile, and just this week he started scooting around on his back (he can move from one end of his crib to the other—its tiring and scary). I am not looking forward to going back to work, even though I know he will be in good hands (my mom will be keeping him). I keep reminding myself that he will be six months old when school lets out for summer and that he won’t remember me not being there. James and I are considering options for next year that might allow me to work part time so that I can spend more time with Jake and in contemplation of having more children.
Well now onto the Jake Story. Since the first part of the saga was told from my perspective, I thought it would be fun to tell Jake’s story from his (imagined) point of view.

Meet Baby Jake
Well, I turned 5 weeks old today and so much has happened in my life so far. I spent my first week in the hospital, but I have been home for a month since today. I didn't like the hospital much because they were always poking me and prodding me. It was nice to have two people looking after me all of the time though! I was excited to come home because everytime Mommy and Daddy came to visit me they fed me and loved on me, which the doctors and most of the nurses didn't do. So far I spend most of my time with my Mommy. It is great fun—she gives me lots of food and cuddles. Sometimes I have to fuss at her because she just doesn’t understand what I am telling her, but most of the time we get along just fine. At night and at lunch time Daddy comes home and plays with me and gives me attention. I love staring at him and I can always tell when he is home by the sound of his voice. He is normally quicker at changing diapers than Mom is, but I think it is normally because she is fatigued. Occasionally I visit my grandparents and I have met my Aunt Cheri and Uncle John twice now. I have one Granny that is constantly taking my picture. She has more patience with me than anyone else so far, and Mommy says she is going to be staying with me during the day when Mommy goes back to work. I don’t mind at all because she looks kind of like my Mom and she always feeds me bottles when she visits me. Food is definitely the way to my heart! I had my first Christmas last week and I got a lot of great toys. I like Christmas trees, the lights are fascinating and next year I hope to be able to play with all those dangling little toys hanging on the tree. My New Years resolutions are to get more mobile (it is frustrating not being able to get around) and to get some teeth so I can eat whenever and whatever I want to (I cry when Mommy and Daddy eat because I feel left out and it smells so good). Oh well, speaking of food, I am hungry again, so it is time to go. Be sure to check this blog frequently for my latest pictures. Here are a few of the latest and greatest…

The Latest and Greatest of Baby Jake

This is my latest picture. It was taken a few days ago of me playing with a toy my grandparents got me for Christmas. I like it because it makes noises when you kick it!

These are me playing with the toy Mommy and Daddy got me with money from Great Gran and Great Grandpa McLean the day before Christmas.

This is me and Daddy on Christmas (The towel in the background is for when I spit up).

This is me and Mommy at three weeks.

This is me at two weeks old posing while my mom and dad took picture for our Christmas Cards. If you didn't get a Christmas Card, e-mail my mom to make sure she has your current address.

Baby Pictures

Baby Blog Part I

WARNING
Well as my last blog entry was about starting my maternity leave as you can imagine this blog entry will have nothing to do with my career—at least my career in public education. This blog entry will be all about the baby. If you do not want to read about the baby, then DO NOT READ THIS BLOG ENTRY! Also, please excuse any typos or misspelled words as I am extremely tired and that makes me more prone to mistakes.

James "Jake" William Carr was born on November 25th, 2005 at 4:30 PM. He was 21 inches long and weighed 8lbs 9.5oz. He was a week early! He was a lot smaller than the doctors thought, but he through off their estimated with his big head, hands and feet! After over 18 hours of labor he was delivered by a c-section and spent a week in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. We brought him home Friday afternoon. He weighed 8lbs 15oz when they discharged him and we are both doing great. He was in the NICU for a suspected infection of the amniotic fluid, and although his blood work never actually showed an infection, they kept him on antibiotics for seven days just to be sure. Apart from that he was completely healthy. As it is a very long story today I will post the story of his birth and some time in the next week I will post entries about his week in the NICU and his homecoming.

Me+Baby=Drama Squared
The doctor had warned us the baby could come as early as the last week of October, but he thought the baby would definitely be here no later than the second week of November. Our 35 week ultrasound on October 24th placed the baby around 7lbs. Around 5 pm on October 29th (while visiting James’s parents in Water Valley, after my last class in Oxford) I started having back pains and contractions. When we went to our doctor’s appointment that Monday (Halloween) the baby had dropped, I had started dilating, and the contractions were showing up on the Fetal Monitor. I had also gained 8lbs in one week (fluid) and the skin on my legs was so tight that you couldn’t pinch them and I was starting to have numbness. The doctor could not figure out what was behind the fluid, but suggested that I start my maternity leave, stay off my feet and drink as much water as possible. My blood pressure had already started to rise, although it wasn’t at a dangerous level, and the doctor was worried the fluid gain would adversely affect my blood pressure. I didn’t really relish the idea of sitting around the house and waiting on the baby, but I was having pretty painful contractions (they would wake me up at night because of the intensity, but they were very irregular) and because of the pressure of the baby’s head, it was pretty painful to move or make any transition from position to position—standing to sitting, sitting to standing, lying down to standing up, walking to stopping, etc. It felt like I had a bowling ball inside my hips and when I moved or stopped moving I could feel it bump up against my pelvis. Once I sat down too quickly and I promise it felt like his head hit the seat. So I started my maternity leave with the doctor’s promise that the baby should come any day and that if he hadn’t by the second week we would look at inducing. The next week I had gained about 8 more lbs of fluid, my blood pressure had risen a little bit more, I was still having contractions, but I had only dilated to 2 cm. The doctor said it should be any day (It is lucky James was there because by now I had this strange urge to slap the doctor when he said things like, "Your back this week?", "You still haven’t had that baby", and "It will be any day now."), he said he wished me pains and that he hoped he wouldn’t see me next week. I was really frustrated by the next Monday’s appointment, especially when the receptionist had a hard time booking my appointment because the doctor was going to be on vacation until the next week. I didn’t really want to be induced, just because I felt like I would rather the baby choose his own birth date than some doctor. Also I was really starting to loose faith in my doctor, and I was hoping that I would luck up and go into labor on a day when my doctor was not on call. My doctor told me to limit my walking (even around the house) to try and control the fluid retention. James and I asked about inducing (since he had promised us we would have a baby by now and because we were worried about ending up with a 10 lb baby) and the doctor said that inducement carried a high risk of a c-section and that it was possible that I could handle delivering a large baby. He even mentioned that since my blood pressure had not climbed over into dangerous levels, since the baby’s heart rate and movements were great and since I was not having any problems with my blood sugar or protein levels (a sign of kidney complications) that me might not induce on the 29th as planned, but he might let us go until the Tuesday after that. So to sum it up I was anxious, miserable and pretty much housebound most of the last month. The fluid retention got so bad that I bumped my leg on the dish washer and the cut didn’t bleed until that night when the swelling went down a little bit (when the swelling started going down a week later after delivery, it bled again).

The day the baby should have been born.
After my appointment on the 14th I experienced a gush of fluid when getting into my car, followed by bleeding and cramping. I went home (where I discovered the bleeding) and called the doctor’s office (I had just left there), he and his nurse were both at lunch and the only nurse left up there told me to wait about an hour and see if the bleeding stopped. By this time James had came home for lunch to check on me (it was the only doctors appointment that I made by myself—James had been to all the rest) and see how things had gone. When the hour had passed the bleeding was worse and my contractions (the ones that I had been having for two weeks) had picked up. I didn’t think I was in labor but I have always heard bleeding at anytime in pregnancy is a concern and this was definitely bleeding, not spotting. I called the doctor’s office back and he still was unavailable, as was his nurse, so they urged me to go on to the hospital. James and I went to hospital and explained what happened. They put me on the fetal monitor and said there were several possibilities—early separation of the placenta (because of the pain and bleeding) and rupture of membrane (possibility that my water had broken). The fetal monitor showed that I was having contractions 3 minutes apart and that the baby was doing really well so they ruled out separation of placenta after a few hours of observation. They then decided to swab me for leakage of the amniotic fluid, which came back negative. By this time (some 5 hours later) the contractions were starting to slow down and the bleeding had stopped. They discharged me and said that something the doctor had done during the exam—possibly attempting to strip my membranes to bring on labor (without telling me of course)—had just irritated my cervix and uterus causing both the bleeding and the contractions. The contractions actually went away for a few days and even when they came back they were generally only at night and not nearly as bad as they had been the two weeks previous. When James and I went to my appointment on the 21st I was still only dilated to 2cm and he set up a tentative inducement on the 29th (the day before the baby’s official due date). I was beginning to think I would never have this baby!

Depression sets in
The 21st came and went. At one point the doctor had told us he would induce if we had not had the baby by this date (because of the baby’s size). Thanksgiving Day came and I got really depressed. From the moment we had discovered we were pregnant, James and I always really thought we would have a baby before Thanksgiving. Early afternoon on Thanksgiving I started having a lot of back pain and by early evening the contractions had started again. I didn’t get excited because I was afraid of getting every ones hopes up and I had been having contractions for over three weeks now! Plus, like I said, I had started to really believe that I would never have this baby on my own and that we would have to just evict him on the 29th (with the doctors help, of course). Around 10:30 that night it became obvious that I was probably really in labor and that they were not going to stop, they kept getting stronger, closer and more regular. I told James that we probably need to try and get some sleep because we were both exhausted—I hadn’t slept well in days. I couldn’t sleep because the pain was so bad and poor James tried (I still was trying not to get him to excited because I was still afraid they would stop) to write down when I had one and how long it lasted but I felt so guilty waking him up. Finally, around 1 or 2 in the morning I knew that it was probably time to go to the hospital. When I woke James up and he started timing them he got a little frantic because they were five minutes apart. He wanted to go to the hospital then, but I told him to sit up with me and time them for at least an hour, because I didn’t want to go up there only to be sent home again or have the contractions stop. Over the next hour they were consistently three to five minutes apart so we headed on to the hospital. The pain was so intense some times that my teeth would start chattering and I would shake/shiver uncontrollably. When they admitted us, I was running a fever and so they decided to start me on an antibiotic intravenously. They monitored my contractions for a little over an hour and then told me congratulations I was in labor. The doctor on call for that day was scheduled to go off call at 5:30 AM and since he wasn’t already at the hospital, they decided to wait until 5:30 and call the doctor who was on call for the next day. Two hours passed and he still hadn’t shown up and my contractions were so close together James and I were having trouble telling them apart. The nurse checked me and we were dilated to 4cm, but the doctor had still not arrived. I knew I could start the epidural at 4 cm, and I knew James needed a food break and that I was exhausted and the hard part was yet to come. I thought if I went ahead and got the epidural that I could relax a little bit—maybe even catch a few minutes rest—and that James could go get some breakfast and call our parents to let them know what was going on. The nurse said she could not order anesthesia, only the doctor could and he wasn’t there yet (this is not the way they presented it in my birthing classes that we took at the hospital—I though all I had to do was ask). After seeing how strong and close my contractions were, she agreed to call him back and get authorization for an analgesic, but she said he couldn’t order the epidural without examining me. I wasn’t too sure about taking an analgesic because I was worried about it getting passed on to the baby, but I knew I needed a break and I was starting to get frustrated about the doctor not being there yet. She warned me that I would feel drunk and dizzy and the pain must have been pretty bad by that point because I remember telling her that I would just shut my eyes if I felt dizzy. She didn’t give me much because we both assumed the doctor would show up any minute. Wrong! The doctor did not show up until about 10 o’clock AM and by then the analgesic had worn off and I was feeling worse than before. He examined me and I had only progressed to 5cm, but even more troublesome he could not detect the bag of waters. He asked me when my water had broken and James and I were shocked, because as far as we knew it hadn’t. He insisted that it had and then it dawned on me to tell him about what happened on the 14th when they sent me home. At this point they officially admitted me and put me in a room (we were in the observation area prior to this, just curtained off from the other women. The woman across from us came in at three cm with broken water and she sounded like she was dying, cussing, crying, screaming, etc. I remember being scared (at the time I didn’t know that my water had already broken and that I was at 5 cm) and that is shortly before I asked about pain meds! He still had not ordered an epidural, but I guess it slipped his mind as he left me to perform a c-section on another woman. An hour later after he came out of the operating room with her, they managed to track him down and get my epidural (by then I was at 6 or 7 cm). When the doctor checked me again, he remarked that this was going to be a big baby. He sounded surprised and so I asked what constituted big, he said anything over 9lbs (this scared me). The epidural didn’t take all they way, but I wouldn’t learn that until later. All I knew was that I finally had some relief and although I could still tell when I was having contractions there was no real pain for the first time in over 12 hours! Because I had been in labor so long and my water had already broken, they decided to give me pitocin to help speed things along and the doctor said he thought we would have a baby in two more hours! For some reason my labor started stalling, even with the pitocin, I took a long time to dilate from 7 to 8 and my fever kept getting higher. The doctor came in and told us that although the baby seemed fine, he was worried that my fever and stalled labor could mean that the amniotic fluid or uterus could have become infected (especially since they weren’t sure how long my water had been broken—you are not supposed to go over 24 hours after your water breaks). He was worried that this could result in a much longer and more stressful delivery and with the size of the baby he didn’t want to risk it. He advised me to consent to a c-section and we did. The anesthesiologist came in and discussed options with us and we decided to up the epidural and attempt the c-section with me awake (which I was really feeling squeamish about). While they were prepping me, I said something to the nurse about it hurting when she shaved me and she ran and got the anesthesiologist. He kept asking me what made me think the epidural had not taken and I didn’t understand—I thought it had taken—I didn’t realize I wasn’t supposed to be feeling what I felt. They had James changing into scrubs at this point, so he had no clue that anything was wrong. They upped the epidural meds as much as they could, and while I was completely numb on my left side, I could feel him pinching my skin on the right side and my back never went completely numb. They decided last minute to put me completely under. James was not allowed in. I remember being scared and trying to relax. Right before I went completely under I heard a female voice ask someone if I was having my tubes tied. I heard a male voice—not the doctors—answer back that he didn’t think so. I remember wanting to scream NO!, but not being able to speak and thinking, "please check my chart" and that is the last thing I remember.

The surreal life
About an hour later I woke up in the recovery room. I was the only one in there except the nurse. No one said anything to me about the baby and I was so out of it I temporarily forgot why I was there. The anesthesiologist came in and asked me to move my feet. I could move my left foot and knee, but I couldn’t even wiggle my toe (no matter how hard I tried) on my right side. I heard the nurse on the phone complaining to someone that she couldn’t get off early to go shopping because I wouldn’t hurry up and move my leg. I don’t think she realized I could hear her phone conversation. I remember getting upset, because I didn’t want to be there either. I wanted to go see my baby. I was really upset (and still am) about not getting to see him, hold him or hear him cry. I was in the recovery room for over two hours and they didn’t explain anything to James or my parents. One of the nurses that had assisted me during labor came in with our camara to show me a picture (on the digital screen) of the baby, but I didn’t have my contacts in and I couldn’t see it. She didn’t know anything about the baby. James had just asked her to show me the picture and try and find out how I was doing because he was really worried about me and hadn’t been able to find out anything any other way. Finally, I could get my right foot to wiggle and even though I couldn’t move my right knee yet. They decided to move me back to a room. Finally I was able to see James and our parents, but still no baby. They told me that their had been some meconium staining of the amniotic fluid and that they had taken him to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) for observation, but that he seemed fine. They didn’t know how long it would be before I could see him as I would have to be able to get up and walk down there to the NICU to see him and I had just had a c-section (plus the general anesthesia to recover from) and was still receiving pain meds and the antibiotic through the IV. The doctor did not want me getting out of bed that night, but with the help of a nurse who had delivered three of her four babies with meconium staining (Jake never aspirated it and it never made it down his throat) and knew how I felt; I managed to go see him (IV and all) early in the AM of the 26th. He was sound asleep at the time and they had an IV going into his umbilical cord stump so we were not allowed to hold him and it just all felt so strange. Well I guess this is where I will stop for now as I am still exhausted and it has taken me several days to write this. I just wanted everyone to know what was going on and that everything is okay.

Nursery

Photos of our home

Ready and Waiting...

So, I started my maternity leave yesterday and now I actually have time to blog! I realize that it has been a long time since I have posted anything. There are so many excuses that I could make, but I will go with the most obvious one. I have been too busy to get the internet stuff sorted out at our apartment and it hasn't really been a priority since James and I have internet access at work and the public library is a bout two blocks away from where we live. Also I have been really busy trying to get everything in order for the baby and completing my master's degree program at the same time. So anyway, I have actually been typing things to post on my blog, but then by the time I get in a position that I could actually post it, the material is outdated! So anyway, I will try and give a general update today and maybe get some pictures posted in the next few days.

Moving
James and I have relocated to Tupelo, Miss. He is working as a design engineer at FMC in Saltillo. He seems to like it a lot. His previous job was in quality and he really wanted to focus more on design and we both feel this will be better long term. We had decided when children arrived that we would like to be closer to our parents. After finding out we were expecting, we considered waiting a year and staying where we were in Clarksdale or moving closer to his job in Batesville, but that would require either leaving the baby with someone we didn't know (day care) or me not working at all and staying home with the baby. Day care was not an option I felt I could live with, and I am afraid staying at home all day would drive me crazy (baby or no baby). Plus, we both felt it would be easier to make a move before we have children. I knew my mom wanted to stay home with the baby and I want to work in an environment where I can leave work at work and enjoy my husband and baby.

School, work and play
I am still trying to figure out how to do the whole career, wife, mother and active member of a church and community thing, I have faith it will all work out though. I am currently (before I took maternity leave anyway) working on a part time basis with the special education program at the high school I once attended. I also occasionally get to tutor students for the English II test.

Re-entering the Twighlight Zone
It is very strange coming back to my old high school. The first week I was there two students approached me and asked where James was (my husband). I was annoyed and amused that they would think I would bring him to work with me. One of the boys knows James from the coffee house and one of them I have know most of his life as he went to church with us and our parents are friends. I have found it very odd that I actually know more students at the high school now--through the coffee house--than I did when I was a student there almost seven years ago. It is also very strange to be known as Mr. Mike or Mrs. Alison's daughter, or Carrie's sister or even as James' wife instead of just as Isla. When I lived there before no one had any idea who I was or who my parents were, etc.

A strange twist
I am sure Carrie would get a big kick out of people referring to me as her sister. In fact the counselor at the school now was not there while I was there, but was there for Carrie's senior year. She went on and on about how smart Carrie was, and then as sort of an after thought asked what sort of student I had been! This is possibly the first time anyone had ever said anything like that to me. Normally, because I was the oldest and teachers had me first, Carrie would get asked if she was as smart as I was, but never the other way round. It was an odd moment for me.
The first few weeks of school I was staying with my parents (while James and I found a place to live) and I found myself getting choked up the first couple times I drove to school. It dawned on me that I had probably never drove to the high school by myself before. By the time I was old enough to drive, Carrie was at the high school too, and so she was always with me. It was very sad to make the drive by myself.
I have also been surprised about the number of people who seem indignant that I don't live (or want to live) in town, that I would rather live in Tupelo. The thing is some of them are the same teachers that always made me feel like I did not belong there, that I was an outsider and now they are indignant that I do not want to live there? Some of them have already mentioned how odd it will be for them teaching my children, and I have just smiled and said that will be a long ways off (to avoid telling them that we don't plan on enrolling our children in schools there--we moved to Tupelo for a reason)! Plus, I promised myself a long time ago, if I ever became a teacher I would not teach at the same school my children attended and if possible I would not teach in the same district! In general it has been a strange experience and I still have very mixed opinions about returning to the town (even though I am not living there).

Location, Location, Location!
James and I love living in Tupelo! There is plenty to keep us occupied and we enjoy taking walks uptown. We recently joined the First Presbyterian Church and we really enjoy the church activities that we have had the energy and time to participate in so far. We live right off of Main Street and our apartment is great. We were originally looking at renting a house, until we get a little bit more familiar with Tupelo and know more about where we would want to buy a house, but we came across this apartment by chance and fell in love with it. I will try and get some picture up of it soon! It is in an old house that has been completely remodeled and split into four flats (it isn't really a traditional apartment). We live in an upstairs flat and have wonderful views of the area from our balcony/porch and windows. It is within walking distance to many downtown attractions (i.e. restaurants, bars, a pub, a theater, and the farmers market). There are several parks close by, when we want a change of scenery for our walks, and the newest developmental area, the Fairpark district, is a few blocks away. As a result we will soon be within walking distance of many new shops, more restaurants and a cinema. It is lots of fun!

Middle School + Social Studies = Happiness?
Monday, before I left, my principal asked if I would consider teaching full time after Christmas. It seems like there might be an opening at the middle school for a social studies teacher. That would be perfect. I would love to teach social studies, where as I just like teaching English. Though I never thought I would say this, I actually miss 7th graders! So anyway, I am trying not to get my hopes up, but I really do miss teaching, and I would like to return to the middle school level.
As far as long term goals, I am actually considering taking courses during the summer to try and get qualified in Elementary education. It would probably take a few years and I am still not sure that I want to do it (especially considering how much I would love to teach Social Studies), but I have a real passion for reading instruction. Everything that I have done in my master's degree program has convinced me that education is the right field for me, but I am still not quite sure I have found where I fit into it. I want to take some more psychology classes, especially developmental psychology and early childhood education classes.
By the time a student gets to me now and cannot read, there is not a lot that can be done and it breaks my heart. I guess I just want to get to the root of the problem, or at least explore the problem more. I also feel that if a child does not get adequate education in the elementary grades, there is little good you can do for him or her in middle school and high school. Who knows what I will be doing in a year? I am still trying to figure things out, and my life moves so fast (at least it seems to me it does), everything changes so much I never know what will happen next.

Any day now!
I finished my last class meeting for my master's degree program this past Saturday. So now all I have left is an evaluation, when I return to work after Christmas, and a portfolio presentation in April. I still have some work to do on my portfolio, but right now I am more focused on having this baby!
Today I begin my 36th week of pregnancy (according to my doctor) and the baby's growth rate is equal with that of a baby at 38 weeks. Last week we had an ultrasound that put his weight at around 7lbs, so I don't even want to think about how big he would be now! I am in good health and the baby is too, we had an appointment this past Monday. The doctor says the baby could come any day and that we will consider inducing if I don't have him by next week (because of his size--neither the doctor nor I want a 10-12 lb baby).
James and I are hoping he will arrive by this weekend as I am pretty miserable. Seeing as the ultrasound put him at about the same weight I was when I was born (and he still had five weeks to his due date then), it is possible that many pregnant women never have to deal with carrying as heavy a baby as I am. It is like we have been nine months pregnant for an entire month now (weight wise for the baby).
He has dropped into my pelvis making walking very uncomfortable. Actually, anytime I change positions it is uncomfortable! If I sit down too fast it feels like I hit his head on the seat! When I walk I can feel his head rolling around inside my hip bones. Surely he can't stay like that for too much longer? We have also noticed a decrease in his movement (maybe because his head is stuck in my pelvis) and I have experienced a loss of appetite (and an increase in heart burn, even though I am not eating very much). In addition, the swelling has gotten worse (so bad that I gained 8lbs of fluid in one week) and I am having to take added iron supplements because he is draining me of all of mine!

Have we lost our minds?
Despite all of this, we are already talking about having more children, and we are so excited about his upcoming birth. It seems very strange to be excited about something I know will be very painful, but I have waited almost nine months to have this baby and I can't wait to see him. I also think it is strange that we can be so excited about him when about a year ago we still weren't sure we wanted children. Even though we were surprised to learn of his existence we have both never considered not wanting him. Like so much of life, it doesn't necessarily make sense, but I am very glad it is happening to us. I just hopes it happens to us soon! As most of you know I am not a very patient person, and I am not sure that I like sitting home waiting to go into labor!

Baby's little hand and arm

Baby Blues

While yes, I could be talking about the uncomfortable side effects of pregnancy (of which there are many), I am actually referring to the ultrasound we had done yesterday which confirmed that we are having a boy! James William Carr seems to be very healthy and mobile (he kept kicking me during the ultrasound--I think maybe because the technician was pushing in on him with the sensor). In a way it was nice to see him kicking me, because now I know it is not my imagination. James and I have also noticed that when we listen to his heart beat we either don't hear it because he is moving around or we always hear it in the same place. With the heart monitor that we have you hear the baby's heart better from the area where his back is. That lead us to suspect that he has a favorite position that he likes to sleep or lie in. The ultrasound confirmed our theory and it turns out his head is right underneath my belly button, his back is to my left of my belly button with his legs kicking the right side of me. He is big for his gestational age and so they have moved my due date up to November 21st. Because my weight gain has been normal, the doctor suspects that the baby is growing large due to genetics, not overfeeding. So it looks as if we are going to have a traditional Carr sized baby--BIG! He said that we will probably have a fourth ultrasound later on to determine his growth and that inducement might be a possibility if he looks like he is going to be over a certain weight. I guess that we shouldn't be too surprised as neither James nor I are exactly what you would call short (I am 5'9", he is 6'4"). Although I was a little under seven pounds when I was born (24 years ago today), James was over eight and only one baby in their entire family was under eight and that is because he was sick (James's brother was a few ounces under eight lbs). The other interesting thing is that the baby is in the breach position (like Carrie and Mum and Gran) and the doctor said that if he doesn't turn and we can't convince him to turn by doing these little exercises than the doctor wants to perform a cesarean (I was born on Caesar's birth day, but not by a cesarean section). Inducing labor to keep the baby a deliverable size sounds fine by me, but I really do not want a c-section. The doctors says that it would be too risky to try and deliver my first child in the breach position, if it wasn't a first baby he would be okay with it. I am hoping that the baby will turn. We still have about 15 weeks before we have to start worrying about that. I don't think that I would like to stand on my head for 9 months, so I think it is only natural that the baby doesn't want to either. However, as fast as he is growing I do hope that he will turn into the head down position eventually. Hopefully, with some help from my mother, I will get some of the still shots from the ultrasound uploaded shortly.

Finally a Finale

Well the last day of school came and went about three weeks ago, and I am still trying to figure out what to make of it all. This is partially due to the fact that I started once again to delve into a sort of personal bubble where I would not have to think about things at my school. I think this happened shortly before the second round of State tests. I guess part of it was due to a sort of desire for denial of all the things I saw happening around me. This year I have learned a lot of new things about my state and myself (such as the limits of my frustration for example). I guess some of those things were hard to face because I was not sure how to put them in context. To be honest, I am still not sure. Perhaps after I have achieved more distance between myself and this past school year I will be better able to absorb the full impact of what I have experienced and learned.
I think the biggest accomplishment that took place after Christmas was that I learned not to blame myself for the conditions I could not control. At first some of the conditions were so overwhelming and because they did affect my classroom management and instruction, I blamed myself for not being able to compensate for or overcome the conditions. In the end I just decided that life is not fair and it is easier to work with what you have if you don’t worry about what you don’t have. I wish this were something I could have learned earlier. I did not achieve all that I wanted to achieve this year and normally that would bother me, but for some reason it really doesn’t. I know that I did the best I could given the circumstances. If the circumstances had been different, my best might have been different. Hopefully, this next school year will not be as challenging. I do not think that I could go through it again, even if I wanted to (which I don’t). I guess it is like the principal at Mantachie Attendance Center was saying, “You wouldn’t give a million dollars for the experience, but they couldn’t pay you a million dollars to do it all over again.” (He is from Rolling Fork, MS and participated in an alternate route program and he taught about 8 miles down the road from my school.)
Summer School
Well I have completed 21 hours towards my master’s degree (out of 30) and I am currently taking 6 hours. These are definitely the most challenging classes I have taken so far, so I am not sure I can maintain the 4.0 average I have now. I think the challenge is compacted by the fact that the classes meet everyday for only three and a half weeks. My first class is Educational Research and my second class is Education Law. Both classes require quite a bit of research and writing as well as two major tests in each class (one tomorrow and one Wednesday). We pretty much cover a chapter a day in each class. Class starts around 8:15 (as amended today, before today it was 8) and gets out around 11:45 (barring announcements from Ben). Neither teacher apparently believes in a bathroom break like most of the teachers we have previously had and my first professor seems to think his class ends ten minutes after it actually does (which coincides with the starting time of our second class). This kind of schedule is kind of challenging on us pregnant people (there are two of us expecting this fall, actually 3 because the father of the other baby is in our class as well). Although I feel much better this trimester (the 2nd) driving back and forth from Clarksdale every day is taxing on ones energy levels (it is about 75 minutes one way). My classes end on the 24th and then I am off until I start teaching (where has not been decided yet, but I will not be going back to the same school as last year).
Special Thanks
I would like to thank my mother for posting all of the ultra-sound pictures and that e-mail that I sent out to some of my friends and family about the baby, when I was too tired to post anything (also see aforementioned bubble). I am really lucky to have the parents that I do. Seeing the parents of the children I taught this past year made me realize exactly how lucky I was as a child to have to smart, loving, involved parents who valued learning and education. I would also like to publicly mention my appreciation for James who has been tremendously supportive this past year and especially during the last four and a half months. Without his help during the first trimester I know I would have starved to death, drowned in my own tears or been attacked by a pile of dirty dishes. I am really lucky to have such a wonderful support group!

On a sad note
Today makes two years since Carrie died. I still have moments where I can’t believe she is gone. Two years seems like such a short time, and yet sometimes it feels like an eternity has passed since the last time I saw her. I still miss her very much; I guess I always will. I sometimes wonder what she would think about all the things that have happened since she left.

Never end it on a sad note
On a happier note, the 29th of this month James and I will have been together (dating not married) for three years. James says he feels like it has been much longer than three years (I hope he meant it in a good way) and I to have difficulty remembering what life was like without him (probably because I don’t want to). The funny thing is when we were discussing marriage (three years ago this October-November) we said that the earliest we would consider having children was in three years. At the time three years seemed like a long way off. Now we are here and it is actually a good place to be.

And in the end…
I almost forgot, as I have been trying to forget a lot of what happened this past year, our school received our state writing test results on the last day of school. After the students had left they announced that Evy and I had raised our school’s test results from 2.3 to 2.4 (the state average is 2.5). That is great especially considering that was our first year ever teaching and (as Ben says) we helped our students make the highest scores in the school’s history.

Doctor's Visit Today 

Doctor's visit today 

Baby Carr 

Baby Carr

I have attached the ultra-sound picture. It was really amazing! James and I got to watch and listen to the heart beat. I did not realize that the heart beat so regular so early on (I don't think it has four chambers, fully developed arteries, veins etc). It is so tiny! The ultra-sound measurements put us at 6 weeks, which amazingly puts the baby at only a month old (the other two weeks track the development of the egg, so you are technically two weeks pregnant at fertilization). I am relieved because that means James and I found out while the baby was only a week into its development and so I havn't exposed it to alcohol, high levels of caffeine, etc. This puts are due date at November 31st, so maybe we will have a Thanksgiving baby! I have been told that once a normal heartbeat is observed, the chances of miscarriage drop considerably. However, we still have 7 1/2 long months to go.
I am supposed to send progress reports out this week, state tests are coming up, I have A LOT of work to complete for my masters program this semester, I have to make sure and send our taxes off by Friday and all without the aid or companionship of a nice cup of coffee or tea! On a good note, I haven't been as exhausted this week as I was the last three. It turns out part of my exhaustion was due to battling a case of strep throat. When they ran my prenatal blood work, I tested positive for strep, and even though I was feeling much better by the time they discovered it (I thought it was allergies) and I never ran a fever that we know of, I am still taking an antibiotic (which doesn't help with the nausea). However, everything seems to be going smoothly, just please continue to keep us in your prayers as we have a long way to go yet!

I am not alone!

My principal is always telling us that we need to imagine our child is sitting in the classroom with us when we teach. For the next seven months that will be a lot easier for me to do. I wasn't planning on blogging about this yet, but I had to put in a request for Monday off for my first major prenatal visit and some how word got around (even though I wrote on the request to please not tell anyone yet). We found out on Monday, March 21st (James' Birthday) that I was about 5-8 weeks pregnant. We will know more after the visit on Monday, April 4th, which is when they will do the first ultra-sound. I will try and blog more then, but for now I am very tired (and excited). It is amazing how things change over night. Parenthood was something we thought we could wait a few more years for, and now I don't know how we are going to wait seven more months!

Who Moved My Cheese?

Don’t you hate it when someone reads a book or sees a movie and then tries to tie it in to every single situation they encounter? Well, that is what my principal is now doing! She made us read Who Moved My Cheese, which while I agree was a good book, is not the end all, be all! Half way through the day before 9-weeks testing (say that 10 times fast), I received an exam schedule that was upside down and backwards from the way we have done it the first two grading periods. Since we have to turn in our lesson plans the week before we teach them, and no one had said anything about changing the schedule, I had already told my students when to expect their tests (I gave them their tests in two parts—since I teach them two periods). The fact that she changed the schedule the day before testing was supposed to take place and no one received the new schedule until sixth period (which meant it was too late to review the first and second period students who now had to test the next day instead of three days later), upset a lot of teachers. It didn’t affect me too much since I don’t have a first or second period class, but I told my students that it was my class and we were going by my schedule. The next day she gets on the intercom and announces that anyone not using the new testing schedule would be guilty of insubordination. During my TEAM gossiping period (sometimes referred to as a TEAM planning period) a colleague who teaches math and I decided to ask if she would allow us to make slight modifications in our own testing schedules. After we asked, she went off on some tangent. I rephrased our proposal and explained that I had class that weekend and I was worried about getting all of their essays graded in time. She looked at me and said, “I moved your cheese.” She then proceeded to go off on another tangent. When she paused to breath, my colleague said, “So, what does that mean—you moved our cheese—do we have to adhere to the test schedule or not.” Our principal replied that we are to use our common sense. In the case of my math teaching colleague this meant, of course I don’t expect you to adhere to the ridiculous, thrown-together-at-the-last-minute testing schedule. I took this to mean that as long as they were working on some part (starting, finishing or checking over) their 9-weeks test, during their scheduled testing time, then I was in compliance with the schedule.
Later that day I asked her about something else and she had some stupid cheese comment as a reply. I hide to bite my tongue to keep from telling her that not do I find her cheese unpalatable, but that I in the process of looking for sharper cheese with better consistency (at this point I would settle for ANY consistency) in another district.
On the Lighter Side!
Last week, while my students and I were in the Computer Lab, someone went in my room and wrote on boards I bought, with markers I bought “Go home bicth”. I left it up there until the next day and I explained to each of my classes that this was why I was trying to help them. I told them that if it was any of them, I sincerely hope that they work on their spelling before the MCT (Mississippi Curriculum Tests).
In the Home Stretch
Well Tuesday was not only my second anniversary (today is my first day of my third year of marriage), but also the first instructional day of the fourth 9-weeks. Today my students took their first of three state tests for which I am responsible. After the test was over, I spent about 30 minutes discussing the test with each of my classes. All of my students feel that they did really good. Although, we had no idea what topic the students would have to write about until today, I really lucked up. It turns out that I gave the very same prompt to my students a few weeks ago! Even though we did not write a whole essay on the prompt, we analyzed it and did the prewriting for it as a class. I was surprised that they all remembered it so well and that they were proud of me for “cheating” for them. It took some convincing to finally get through to them that I had not cheated, that it was just a coincidence that the prompts were the same. It was good to see my students so proud of their performance. They were all bragging about how good they did, and from the few essays I got a chance to glance over while proctoring the test, I am inclined to agree. I asked them how prepared they felt and they all said that it was a lot easier than the essays I made them write! Most of them now believe they can ace the next two tests, and they have expressed confidence in my ability to prepare them. Some of them actually thanked me for all the work I put into preparing them. I am beginning to wonder if someone has brain washed them!
Another thing that made my day, where the number of students who wrote about wanting to be teacher (the prompt was on jobs). Sure, you had those students who wrote about the NBA and NFL, but I was surprised how many of them wrote that they wanted to help people and so they want to be a teacher when they grow up! I am not so self-involved that I would believe myself to be the reason for this career decision, but I am glad that they connect teachers with helping people. Some days I feel like I am not helping anyone, and then days like today when they are bragging about how much they have learned about writing, it is all worth it!

No I have not quit!

Ben, our illustrious MTC (Mississippi Teacher Corps) coordinator, pointed out that it had been quite some time since I had blogged. I reminded him that we have only had two weekends off from class this semester and one of those I spent in Vicksburg for some stupid MAMLE conference (for middle schools). Last weekend was my only weekend off in over a month and I spent it mainly sleeping, so my point is that I have really not had a lot of time to blog. The free time I have had, has been spent attempting to grade papers, attempting to catch up on sleep, and attempting to work on my marriage (most people don’t realize that marriage is not a state of being but a process). Blogging has been at the bottom of my list priority wise. However, Ben pointed out that the title of my last blog was “When is Enough?” and that was on January 19^th so people might have thought I really had enough and finally quit! Not hardly (which is actually a double negative technically, but in this case conveys the meaning that I have not quit).

Taxman

Today I did our taxes and discovered that if I filed my usual 1040EZ then James and I would owe the United States Government over $1,500. Upon closer inspection of our W-2s we noticed that James had three exemptions. Because of this, only half as much was deducted from his check as mine, despite the fact that he made almost twice as much as I did! He thinks he claimed me as a dependent, but he has no idea what the other exemptions are about. It only took 20 minutes to fill out the 1040EZ form, but after seeing how much we owed we decided to fill out a standard 1040 so we could deduct some things and hopefully get out of paying so much. We bought TurboTax, which was tax deductible, and spent the day rummaging through the file cabinet and boxes looking for receipts. Luckily, moving expenses, $250 of crap I bought for my classroom and spent on my students brought us down to $931, but money spent to charitable organizations didn’t bring us down at all. This sort of makes me mad, as I am sure I could spend my money on better things than the government does. It is always easier to spend other peoples’ money than your own! However, it was curious that overall (State and Federal) we only paid about what it costs to educate one child in the state of Mississippi. I wonder where they get all the money for education from, no wonder they are in such a bind. I was upset to discover this weekend in Dr. Mullins’ class that over one-third of our state’s general fund comes from the 7% state sales tax and another third of the general fund comes from state income tax. This means ordinary employed, tax-paying citizens are contributing most of the money in the general fund, 70% not counting road taxes, licenses and fees. I guess I always assumed that business and casinos contributed more (Casinos only contribute 5% of the general fund). Fortunately Microsoft Excel told us that we can pay the full amount by the end of March and still have James’s school paid off by the end of April. Engineers love Excel, and yes, maybe I am a little bit jealous. However, I too am learning how to use Excel, thanks to Dr. Don’s class and so before to long I might be as proficient in it as James!

Testing, Testing 1,2,3…

In my school’s infinite wisdom they decided to place two first year teachers in charge of 7^th grade language arts, which means Evy and I are responsible for 3 state tests: a Writing Assessment on March 9^th, and a Reading Assessment and Language Assessment around the first week of May. I am really proud of how far my students’ writing skills have progressed since our first formal writing unit in the middle of October, but because of my students limited vocabulary I am worried that they will not understand the writing prompt. If they write off topic they automatically receive a zero! We have practiced addressing many prompts, and while they generally do well, I am often astounded at the prompts they misinterpret because they do not understand words like possessions, qualities, skills, product, etc. It is hard enough to teach seventh graders for 90 minutes every day, when their other classes (except math) are only 45 minutes long, but it is even harder when I am making them write for the entire 90 minutes. I try to break it up by writing as a class on the white boards (which I bought) with the dry erase markers (that I also bought—I am just a little bit upset that I spend so much on my job and only $250 of it is tax deductible), and by going to the computer lab and working on writing skills on a online program that our school subscribes to called MySkills Tutor. My students are impressed with my dedication to them, my writing ability, my reading speed and ability, my belief in them and my high expectations of them. As a result, I am having less discipline problems, but there are still bad days. One Friday was particularly hard because the math teacher left early and so the Social Studies teacher and the Career Discovery teacher let their kids and the math teacher’s kids go outside and play with the PE kids during 7^th and 8^th period. My kids were supposed to be working on writing because of our upcoming test on March 9^th, but they were so upset that “everyone else” was playing right outside our windows. My kids don’t understand why I don’t give them free days on Fridays and many of them don’t understand why I hold them to such high expectations.

Break on Through to the Other Side

I have had several break throughs here lately. Since we have started using MySkills Tutor they seem to enjoy learning much more than they did when I lectured out of an English book. I was glad to see them excited about learning, but beginning to feel like the program was doing a better job than I do. However, when my students come across words or concepts that they don’t understand they raise their hands and I try to explain it to them. Despite the three weeks we spent on modifiers, some of my students have no clue what a modifier is (or what a noun or pronoun is). I was beginning to wonder how these kids were ever going to pass the state tests when they can’t identify a pronoun in a sentence. I was very frustrated about this, when one of my low achievers raised his hand. I went over to help him and he said he didn’t understand dangling modifiers. As I started the standard lecture I had given the 13 other students so far who had asked the same question, he interrupted me and said, no, I understand what I modifier is, I just don’t understand what dangling means. He then proceeded to not only regurgitate all of my definitions of what modifiers are that I gave them the first 9 weeks and how to identify them and what they are used for, but he could successfully identify them in the sentences. After I explained what a dangling modifier was, he thanked me and said that I really knew how to break it all down. He then retook the practice lesson and made a 100 on it. This kid came to me from the 5^th grade, he is currently not passing my class (because he won’t do his work), he is definitely the last student that I would expect to have made me feel like a successful teacher. It was truly a remarkable moment in my teaching career.

As I stated earlier, I have also noticed some improvement in their writing. My heart swells with pride as I see some of them taking pride and enjoying their writing. Some of them have really grown under the encouragement I have given them, they are not used to being held to high standards and they are not used to having people believe in them. My homeroom has made tremendous progress toward their reading goals this 9weeks. For the first time all year, 3 of my students are already above their goal and all but 2 of my students are within range. This is about 300 times better than last semester. My kids are starting to believe in their own abilities and I hope this is something that won’t wear off when they leave me. I have had several teachable moments this 9 weeks for which I am grateful, however some students seem to be slipping farther away from my grasp. I have lost several students to expulsion, and while on one had I am glad that they are no longer disturbing me or the students that are trying to learn, I can’t help but wonder if I did everything I could have to help them.

A wake-up call

Despite the criminal records, associations and activities of some of my students, I naively have felt relatively safe. I have been pushed and cussed out, and all sorts of things, but I always try to remember that they are just children and I am an adult. I am normally pretty fearless and so I thought I was pretty safe. However last week I discovered that one of my students brought a gun to school. They did not discover that he had the gun until after he had already been in my homeroom. This particular young man is on papers, which means he has been arrested before (in his case for armed robbery) and is now on parole. However, nothing will happen to him because he managed to pass the gun off to one of Evy’s students who then went home early. He however, has not denied bringing it to school. The PE coach who called the cops on the boy was chewed out by the principal, because it was bad publicity for the school. This particular student (I hesitate to call him a child) is almost 16, and wrote and essay in my class about getting shot when he was 11 by some rival gang members. When I asked him about his essay he proudly showed me the scar. I asked him if he was scared, he said at the time yes, but now he is not afraid of anything. You can tell by the look in his eyes that this is true. However, strangely I am not scared that he had a gun in my room. In a weird way he respects me. Some students are behavioral anomalies in the way that they will actually behave in my room and act up in everyone else’s rooms. Most students will behave in the male teacher’s room because he lets them do whatever they want and they will behave in the science teacher’s room because they identify with her and she is physically and verbally abusive when they don’t. Most students tend to cause problems in the math teacher’s room and in my room. The students actually cause less trouble in the math teacher’s room because she does not keep detention and she is pretty lenient on behavior. When they get to my room I expect more out of them and I have stricter rules, so as a result I tend to also have more behavior problems. Plus, I am young and white so they see this as two reasons to try me. The funny thing is that because I have been enforcing my rules all year long I am actually starting to have less discipline problems than the other teachers on my team, which is nice for a change. Anyway, this over-aged student who brought the gun to my class, only does his work in my room. He has a 100 average for his reading grade and he completes his work in my room. I attribute this partially to the fact that I praise every single positive thing he does and because I give him candy when he makes 100s. It is just strange the kids I am able to reach and the kids that I am not able to reach. At the beginning of the year I would have never thought he would have been one of the students I was able to reach, but now it appears I am the only teacher this year he has that might have a chance to reach him. While it is unsettling that a student could bring a gun to school and go unnoticed for so long—you can’t live in fear of death, it comes to us all eventually. I will not back down, just because some people might not like me. I said in the beginning that if I could reach even one of them it would be worth it, I am now beginning to see that it is definitely worth it.

Bittersweet Birthdays

January 28^th would have been my sister Carrie’s 22^nd birthday. It was especially hard on me and has been another reason for my absence in blogging. I remember my 22^nd birthday; it was a month after she died. Every birthday since she died has been hard because I feel like I am leaving her further and further behind. I often think of what she would think of what I am doing now. Occasionally, I still have dreams that she is alive. When I wake up it is like loosing her all over again. Despite the painful discovery of reality upon waking I would rather see her in my dreams and suffer the consequences upon waking, than not see her at all.

This past year I began to feel my biological clock ticking. I am now at the age my father was when I was born, the age my mother-in-law had her first child, and my mother had two children by the time she was my age. My-twenty fourth birthday is fast approaching and I do not want to be thirty and trying to start a family. I want a rather large family, and James feels he is up to the task. James and I have been talking about expanding our family soon, and I hope in my children I might see some of Carrie. I hope that the parts of Carrie that are alive in me are passed down to my children. Perhaps one of my children will have her eyes, or her smile, or her wry humor. Of course, I hope they all look like James too. Then they will all be perfect!

Learning to live together!

With most of my weekends spent on college and most of my weekdays spent on my job, James was beginning to feel neglected and our house was beginning to be a real mess. James expressed unhappiness with the way our house was being kept. I listened to his complaints then realized that I too was unhappy with our arrangement. I used to keep such a clean house, with the exception of my room, which was always cluttered. I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t keep this house clean and also why I don’t get as much accomplished now as I used to get accomplished before I met James. When we were talking about requirements for a new house, James expressed a desire to have a room of his very own where he could be clutter free. At first I was hurt, but then I realized that I desired the same thing. As much as I love James, I need my own space. I have ADD, which tends to lead to a different approach to life. James is my opposite in almost everyway and although that is why I am so attracted to him, I am surprised it has not caused more disturbances than it has. He needs at least one room completely clutter free and I need at least one room full of clutter. So in all my infinite wisdom, I decided we have two bedrooms and two bathrooms so we could each have a bedroom and a bathroom in our own fashion. James offered me the bigger room but I wanted to have my own things around me so I chose the spare bedroom. I keep my clothes in my room, my make-up in my room and my boxes of stuffed animals and papers from kindergarten all the way up to now. I can lay my papers on the floor without fear that James will throw them away or step on them. He can retreat into his nice neat room whenever he is overcome by clutter and I have found it easier to keep other areas of the house clean, which makes James happy and before he gets home I don’t wait around like a sick puppy. I can actually go to my own room, like I would have in high school or in early college and get my work done, until he gets home. He can shave and get water everywhere in his bathroom, and I can leave my make-up all over my bathroom! We have never been happier! We do not sleep in separate rooms, which is probably the secret to our success. Of course he has to invite me to his room every night because my room is such a mess!

So, how have I been dealing with all the stress?

Gran McLean says that McLeans like to have their wee moan. I, in addition to my wee moan, like a little wine. James and I recently discovered that you can buy rather decent wine in a box for almost half of the price that you can buy it in the bottle. After casually observing that almost all the crazy people we know either consume too much or too little wine, we have decided that it is a lot healthier than the drugs my colleagues are taking and probably a lot more effective. So have your own wine, and long may we all live!

When is enough?

I remember everyone telling me that it would be easier after Christmas. I am not so sure that is true. I have had a very rough few days and I feel like I might be at my breaking point or very rapidly approaching it. I was really depressed all day Monday, because it dawned on me that my students and I would not have another break until the end of March, almost three months away. My master’s degree program starts back this weekend and I am already so overwhelmed. I am not sure how I will handle everything. Every third thought I have is of quitting and every second thought is guilty from the thought of quitting.
On Thursday I stayed after school until about 6:20 pm. Our school decided that all teachers should be at school so that parents can come and pick up their children’s report cards. I thought it was a good idea. I got to meet a lot of parents that I had talked to on the phone, and it was nice to finally be able to place a name with a face. However, I was surprised at the things you learn when you talk to people face to face that they don’t think about disclosing on the phone. For example, one father who I am have talked to on about 5 occasions about his son’s day dreaming and sleeping told me that his son was placed on seizure medication at a young age that caused slight brain damage. I don’t understand why he didn’t tell me this the first time I talked to him on the phone (or the second, third, fourth or fifth time I talked to him on the phone)! He seemed to assume we knew. The aunt and guardian of one of my student’s was surprised that her niece was doing so poorly in a class that she passed the year before. This was the first time we had ever heard that this particular student had failed the seventh grade. Once again the aunt assumed we knew. When we questioned her about it, she said that the school her niece attended last year forwarded her transcript to our school before we enrolled her. I am constantly amazed at the incompetence of my school!
I have also experienced a lot of disappointment in the past few days. I have been really trying to stay on top of my at risk students to keep them from being able to mess up yet another nine weeks. Several of them were showing promise and were actually making an effort. Their parents even promised me that things would be different this time. I guess I just wanted to believe them. Perhaps I am just too idealistic sometimes. Despite my personal experiences to the contrary, I guess I hoped that if you care about someone enough and if you are determined enough, you can impose your will on another person. However, several of them have been suspended for fighting in the past few days (one girl for nine days) and I am worried that they will not come back with the same renewed enthusiasm as they started the nine weeks with, and that even if they do they will not be able to catch up with everyone else.
Today was a 60% day. My students think that is unfair that they should have to do any work on a 60% day (or a Friday, or a four day week, etc.), so it was a constant battle to keep them on task. At 1:50 pm when my last bus student left I felt like I had put in a full day, not sixty percent of one. When I arrived at 1:57 pm at my district meeting for teachers of secondary English, the teacher whose room the meeting is held in (at our rival middle school) made a snide remark about the meeting starting at 2:00 pm. I smiled, looked around the room and then explained to her that our buses were running late and I would get written up if I just left my students alone. I then pointed to her clock and remarked that not only was I three minutes early, but I was the first one there from the schools on the other side of town. The meeting was a total waste of time. We had a speaker on something that pertained only to high schools. Then, since our chairperson and co-chairpersons never showed up to the meeting with our meeting agenda, we sat around and talked until time to leave.
I was informed at the above-mentioned meeting, by my Teacher Corps colleague, that our principal had told her that a former Language Arts teacher (she retired last year) was coming to school sometime tomorrow to talk to us about teaching writing. My friend then made a comment that I had been teaching writing. My principal replied something to the extent that I was not teaching writing correctly. This infuriated me. NO! I am not perfect. I take constructive criticism well. However, I do not take my supervisor discussing her opinion of my job performance with another teacher when she has not been willing to discuss it with me first. She still has not provided me with any feedback from any of her official or unofficial visits, and yet we have already scheduled our second round of official visits for the 2nd of February. I don’t know how she thinks I am doing (apart from the remark she made to my colleague). I don’t know what I need to work on or fix before her next observation. Did I mention that I made an ‘A’ on my classroom observation for the Teacher Corps and that the consultant was surprised to learn I was a first year teacher. Sure I have had advice, but no real criticism. My first instinct was to go straight back to the school and discuss the issue with the principal. I decided to wait, because I know that when I let my initial anger cool down, so that I am calm and collected (but still simmering), I am a much more formidable person to deal with. I dropped a bee in the bonnet of a teacher who is close to our principal, that I knew what she had said and was very upset with her about it. After talking to this teacher I also decided that I would wait and see what the former English teacher says about my attempts at teaching writing tomorrow before approaching my principal. I figure if I win over the veteran teacher, then our principal won’t have a leg left to stand on. I am still very angry. When I cool down to a simmer I might not take as drastic measures as I now plan, but measures will be taken!
The consultant was more helpful than I thought!
A few months ago the consultant that was visiting our school decided it would be helpful to me and my colleague if she taught one of my colleague’s classes while we observed. I was appreciative at first, as I have not had the opportunity to observe any 7th grade Language Arts classes since summer school. When I observed her 90-minute lesson, I was more relieved than enlightened. First of all, we aren’t supposed to teach Language Arts for 90 minutes—we are supposed to teach Language Arts for 45 minutes and Learning Strategies for 45 minutes. Her 90-minute lesson was just a compressed, less detailed version of a four-day (45 minutes each day) lesson I had already taught. She had the same problems with student behavior and attention spans that I have. She exhibited cultural ignorance on at least on occasion, which she warned us not to do, and she made two technical mistakes in a very crucial part of her lesson showing that she apparently was not as familiar with her material as she should be (as a former English teacher). The fact that she could make two such mistakes (and that I was able to catch them) made me realize for the first time that if she was not perfect, even though she was not only a veteran teacher, but also a well-paid consultant, then I could not be expected to be perfect either. She even showed frustration when students asked the same question 15 times when the answer was written plainly on the board. She also didn’t seem to find time for the positive encouragement she asked me to implement on one of her previous visits. I did, in fact, implement the positive encouragement, but quickly abandoned it. She suggested instead of saying “John, get out your paper and pencil” or “John, where is your paper and pencil”; that I instead say “Jane, I like the way you got out your paper and pencil without being asked.” Maybe this sounds good in theory, but when I tried it the other students all got upset when I didn’t thank each and every one of them for getting out their supplies, whenever they decided to do so (which wasn’t always in the timely fashion I desired). Call me old fashioned, but I don’t think I should have to thank someone for doing something that they are supposed to do; it presents a very unrealistic approach to life. You don’t get thanked for following the laws of the land; they just put you in jail when you don’t! I consider it one of my jobs to try and prepare my students for life, and I definitely don’t want to do anything that adds to their sense of entitlement. This was the day that I decided to quit beating myself up because I am not the best teacher in the world.
After accepting that everything that happens or doesn’t happen in my classroom is not my fault, I started trying to identify other factors that might influence what goes on (and doesn’t go on) in the partially enclosed space I tend to refer to as my room. There are several factors that I belief are negatively impacting my students (that I have no control over). The first and most prevalent is a lack of discipline. I do not believe that students can develop self-discipline if they have not been previously exposed to discipline of any sort. Most of my students do not receive any discipline (or good examples of self-discipline) at home and our school is not a very disciplined environment, yet we expect these children to develop the self-discipline they will need to make it in the real world. We feed them a hot meal for lunch because many of them do not get a hot meal at any other time. Yet we neglect providing them with many of the things that they need to be successful, even thought we know they probably not receiving these things at home either. The sad thing is there does not seem to be a real reason for this neglect on our part—I mean instilling discipline cannot be as expensive as the hot meals they are provided with everyday. I honesty think they would be better off in the long run if we fed them sandwiches every day and worked harder to instill in them a sense of discipline, value and respect. As I have stated before, I work at a school that places more emphasis dress code violations (some of which are not even spelled out in the handbook, like whether or not the boy have their shirts tucked in), than academic success or any other disciplinary infractions. I just cannot figure out how everyone’s priorities have become so confused?
The missing link.
Lately, I have assumed that if my kids had parents then maybe they would behave better. I suddenly remembered that public schools were originally set up for parentless children (if I remember correctly), and children with wealthy or well-meaning parents were tutored at home. So, if schools worked without parents in the past, why can’t they do so now? Parents can’t be the only thing wrong in this equation
Future or Futility
I am not sure I was cut out to be a teacher. I completely identify with the metaphor of a square peg trying to fit into a round hole. I have not read a newspaper in two months, because I don’t trust myself not to turn straight to the classifieds. So, why am I doing this? Eventually I think I will probably go into the public policy formation arena—either through journalism or politics, however I don’t believe you can truly understand an area of life until you have lived it. I try very hard to look at things from every angle and perspective. Not only did I think this program was an excellent opportunity to give back to my state, but a very good way to learn in depth about two of the most important areas of public policy our children (and our future) and our public education system.
So, why haven’t I quit yet? I am not a quitter. I am not so sure that is so noble a reason. I am normally leery of people who stick to something (a job, a mantra, an argument...) just because they aren’t a quitter. I think sometimes people don’t quit because they are afraid of change. I am not afraid of change. Sometimes it is good to quit—like if you quit smoking or something that is bad for you. I guess the distinction lies in whether you quit something good or something bad. Then we have the element of commitment. I signed a contract with my school district for one year and regardless of whether this was a good decision or a bad decision, it is a decision that I have committed to until June. Sometimes you have to take chances in life. Not every decision you make, no matter how good your intentions, will end well. Sometimes you know almost instantly that you made a good decision, and sometimes it takes years to fully realize the effects of your decisions. I do not know the full ramifications of my decision to join the Teacher Corps. I do know that I was disappointed with my placement the moment Dr. Mullins informed me of it. It is not what I expected when I signed on with the program. Things have not gotten any better since my initial disappointment. I just hope that I am not doing all of this in vain, that my perseverance will pay off and someday I will be able to see positive effects of my decision. Right now, I am clinging to the hope that I am doing something positive, and some days—like today—that really is all that keeps me from quitting.

A New Year for new strategies for success!

So that is what that button is for!
I typed this post Friday night, but Saturday, when I went to post in on the Internet, James told me the cable modem was not working and that Monday I should take it back to the cable company. I had cleaned up the house Saturday morning and I had moved the computer stuff around, but I didn’t think about that at the time. Because I keep detention on Monday I told James I would do it Tuesday (today). This morning when I went to disconnect it so I could return it, I noticed this little button switch thing. I pushed it and magically all the little lights came on. So long story short, this is from Friday, but because I am stupid it wasn’t available for the three of you to read until today (Tuesday).
The Dawning of the Age of Aquarius
New year, new start, renewed energy… …but, the same old principal (still no pal o’ mine). However, apparently the new year brought her new strategies in the fight to raise our school’s level from a two to a four. For our first staff development our principal started calling out months and dates and asking us to sit in groups accordingly if our birthday fell between these dates. I covertly said to my MTC colleague (and sometimes cohort) that if she started some sort of astrology crap than I definitely was leaving. However, even I had no idea exactly how far she was going to take it because the heading on the agenda just said, “What we have in common.” After a few hours of reading crap about each of the twelve astrological signs—long detailed signs that talked about everything from what people like to eat for breakfast to what they like to wear to bed (a slight exaggeration). The detailed descriptions where rather long, she handed one to me, which although it was the sign I was born under, I didn’t identify any more or less with than any of the other 11 signs. I was very proud of myself for pronouncing all of my words right, a feat which few if any of the other selected 12 managed to do (I am adding philanthropical and Aries—pronounced areas at my school—to my list of words including incentives, itenary, etc. that teachers at my school are banned from using!). After all of the signs had been read and discussed our principal, a former math and science teacher, told us that intelligence tests and interest inventories are expensive and time consuming to administer and decipher and so maybe we should just look at our students birthdays to truly understand how to help them. And yes, she did actually refer to the age we live in as the Age of Aquarius once. I am still in awe (not from her suggestion, but of the fact that she actually made it to where she is in the first place)!
I pledge allegiance to the flag…
Occasionally, when the moment strikes her, our principal gets on the intercom during our Reading Renaissance program and leads the students in the pledge of allegiance. Sometime she asks other people to lead it. So far the only thing I have learned is that both the principal and the school secretary do not know the entire pledge of allegiance!
R-E-S-P-E-C-T or Rebel Without a Cause
My students have no idea what respect is. They like to throw out these broad statements such as “you have to give respect, to earn respect” and yet they have no idea what respect actually means. For example, if I ask a student to quit talking, they think that I am being disrespectful to them—if I am allowed to talk when I want, then why can’t they. If I give them detention for talking or being disrespectful then they yell at me that I have no right to call them disrespectful because I have done nothing to earn their respect. Many of my students have a horribly disrespectful attitude, but they don’t have anything to back it up. If you look at them wrong or don’t say good morning to them because you were talking to another adult at the time then you are disrespecting them (despite the fact that they interrupted you) and that seems to be enough reason for them to say and do whatever they want. I am getting really tired of this attitude, but I don’t know how to combat it. I am starting to realize more than ever that it isn’t a teacher they need, but parents.
I’ve got the no door blues (and possible lawsuit)
The other teacher at my school who has a room situation like mine—a gaping hole instead of a door and a door exiting from our room to the rear of the building—had a computer keyboard stolen from his room the Friday we left for Christmas break. It was announced during our faculty meeting (after the astrology lesson) that this item had gone missing and that this teacher would be required to pay for the keyboard in question. I had previously told the assistant principal, whom I have a good relationship with, that if anything went missing out of my room, then I will not be held accountable since the district cannot provide me with a door and there are three after school programs that our school host that last until between 6:30 and 8:00 at night. If they think I am going to stay at school every night until 8:00 at night to guard their stuff, when nobody guards my stuff, then they are sadly mistaken. I have bought quite a bit of stuff for my room and much of it has been vandalized, broken or stolen. If they cannot be held accountable for my stuff and cannot reimburse me for my stuff then I am afraid I cannot be expected to do so for them. Most of the stuff that is in my cramped room doesn’t work. Sometimes I think it would be a lot easier if I didn’t have to worry about the stuff that the district placed in my room. The things I let my students use the computer for could be done in the school’s computer lab with a lot less trouble than they become in my room. It is very difficult to effectively manage a class of active 7th grades and carefully supervise three students on the computers at the same time. My students don’t all know how to use computers very well, although they have demonstrated a tremendous talent for downloading viruses, and breaking things on the computers. It is a huge disruption for me to have to go log a student on to the computer (three passwords—the computer technician added them because I do not have a door to prevent students from playing around on them after I leave the building) so they can take an Accelerated Reading test during my learning strategies class while I am supposed to be helping 21 other students do other things. Yes, I think my classroom, class and, indeed, my life would be a lot easier if they would relieve me of my precious technology (previous hand picked savior for our children as deemed by our principal, before her horoscope told her otherwise of course) before on of my students’ attempts to.
Africa: country, county or continent?
I somehow became responsible for our team’s interdisciplinary unit. While the word team does not seem to have any ‘I’s in it, it apparently has a lot of ‘U’s, as in you do this, and you do this, etc. An interdisciplinary unit, for those of you who are not familiar with the concept, is a group of lessons on one topic or theme that our principal mandates each teacher find an aspect of to teach on the same selected days (normally scheduled around times when visitors are expected in the building). We are required to decorate our rooms, to make our principal look good, and our students just love the whole experience. In fact, when they found out we were starting on ours this week the groans actually drowned out the noise from the class next door for a few seconds. This will be our third such unit and each of the last two times at least one student (who didn’t apparently understand what an interdisciplinary unit was) complained about having to learn about the same old boring stuff four times in the same day. The decorations outside my lack of a door lasted a whole 30-minutes before someone defaced them. I really don’t like doing things just for show and especially hate having to repeat something that has already proved ineffective. Sorry for the digression, but anyway, once again I was singled out to come up with the theme for our team’s interdisciplinary unit. Since our math teacher is currently teaching a unit on geometry, I decided we could do “Around the World in Eight Days”. No it is not a typo. Although our students have exhibited a stubborn ignorance of other countries and cultures, none of us want to spend 88 days trying to convince them that Mexico is not the same thing (or anywhere close) as the South American continent. Today I gave them a brief overview of the seven continents and regions of the world so that they could make a more educated selection of which "county" (also not a typo) to do their report on. This brought us to the argument that Africa is a continent, not a country and that there is a difference between the word county and the word country. Even after my brief geography lesson, when I passed around a list of the countries they could choose from (any of 192 except the USA) students kept raising their hand and asking me why Africa and Europe weren’t on the list. Oh well, at least they are learning something about Social Studies for once. I learned today through a conversation over lunch with one of my students that in Social Studies that day they were playing tug of war and basketball to demonstrate their knowledge of teamwork.
Parents are a scream
Starting with the first day back, so far I have had to call parents almost every night about their student’s behavior. You never know who’s phone number you are calling (aunt, mother, grandmother) or what their name is and many times you get an answering machine or voice mail service. If I have to leave a message then I always start off with my name, the name of the school I work at, and the name of the student I am calling about. Apparently, in response to one of these calls I had a very irate woman call me on my drive home one afternoon. I could barely understand a word she was saying. I told her I was driving home and advised her that I would call her back when I reached home. She started yelling that I had called her number and she wanted to know why and she wanted to know now! I politely asked her the name of her student and she listed three different names (first names only). The only name she said that belonged to one of my students actually belonged to two of my students, so I asked the women the girl’s last name. She actually had to think about her own daughter’s last name—there was like a full minute pause (but then again, when you have three students in the seventh grade!?!). I told her why I had called her cell phone and she calmed down when she found out I was just notifying her of her daughter’s detention. Then, without hanging up or closing the conversation, she starts yelling at somebody. At first I thought she was yelling at me, but after a while it was obvious that she was yelling at one of her children. I stayed on the line, thinking she might return to our conversation. Eventually, I just hung up—hoping I could blame it on poor cell phone coverage if she called up. I just can’t imagine treating a child like that or having a parent like that.