Menu Plan Monday (A Day Early)

I'm attempting to link up with the other folks at Organizing Junkie.

So, it's no secret that I am desperately trying to shed some pounds in hopes of making a baby in the future. The last few weeks I have not done so well with my goals, and I think I can attribute that to my lack of menu planning. When we don't have a menu in place, we tend to go all willy-nily and eat Mexican four times in a week (yes, that was our culinary life story last week). This week, we've made a menu, bought the groceries, and will stick to it.

Sunday:
Baked Chicken Parmesan from Skinnytaste (so good)

Monday:
Diet Coke BBQ Chicken Strips
Green beans

Tuesday:
Rotisserie Chicken
Steamed Cabbage

Wednesday:
Due to my Master's class, this is "fend for yourself" night in our house.

Thursday:
Tacos (How sad is it that this is my favorite night?)

Friday:
We have scheduled in a Mexican feast at our local Mexican restaurant. Only one, however! This is an improvement.

Saturday:
Pizza Crescent Rolls (Thank you, Pinterest, for this deliciousness!)

So that's what we're eating. And on top of all that goodness, I plan to get in at least four days of some hardcore walking with some Zumba and Shredding in the mix.

Summation

From LouAnne Johnson's Muchacho:
"...I realized there are two kinds of books in the world--the boring kind they make you read in school and the interesting kind that they won't let you read in school because then they would have to talk about real stuff like sex and divorce and is there a God and if there isn't then what happens when you die, and how come the history books have so many lies in them. They make us read the boring books so the teachers just have to talk about safe stuff like amoebas and tsetse flies and the hypotenuse of a triangle and all those things which nobody cares about in real life" (79-80).

Bell Peppers

I used to love bell peppers. I would get them on my sub, chop them up in a salad, dip them in ranch. However, I have never been able to wrap my head around the idea of "stuffed peppers." Something about that concept just doesn't sit well with me. My stomach is literally lurching just thinking about it. Eww.

My love for peppers ended circa Spring Break 2009. We decided to go to the beach as a whole entire family and spend the whole entire week in one house as a whole entire family. I'm sure you're starting to realize that probably wasn't the best idea. I should pause to let it sink in that whole entire family includes the following: me, Hank, sister 1, sister 2, brother-in-law 1, brother-in-law 2, mom, dad, brother-in-law 2's mom, nephew, niece 1, niece 2, step-niece 1, and step-niece 2. Oh, and the nephew/niece pair? They brought friends. Yeah, let that settle for a moment.

Anyway, this blog is about bell pepper, not about my inability to spend an entire week with my whole entire family + 2. We went to eat at Ultimate California Pizza, which of course made my sweet husband, the pizza lover, extremely happy. We got our usual, a pizza (light on the sauce on my side) with pepperoni, mushrooms, and bell pepper. It was divine. Really, it was.

We left the restaurant to head to play laser tag (something my husband swears he will never participate in again as long as he lives). En route to laser tag, he sneezed a ginormous sneeze. Then he immediately began screaming and took both hands off the steering wheel. Yep, he was driving.

I grabbed the wheel and tried to talk him through the pain while keeping my eyes on the road. His hands were on the side of his face and he was screaming in pain, and, I kid you not, an entire bell pepper strip (think Subway), was coming out of his nose. Once he got it out, his eyes watered for probably 30 minutes or more, and then he was fine.

The moral of the story: bell peppers don't come in my house. They remind me of snot and boogers and all things nostril.

Reflection

When I think about writing about teaching, I always envision myself writing about coming to my classroom an hour early and sitting at my desk as I gather my thoughts for that day. This is not my reality. The bell for first block rings at 7:55 a.m. My reality is screeching into my parking spot around 7:51 a.m., grabbing my banana from my passenger seat, throwing my bag over my shoulder, and rushing to my room in hopes of getting there before my line of students. I am a good teacher; I'd be a better one if school started at 10 a.m.

Often, I start the day with crumbs on my shirt and dabs of moisturizer showing on my face. It's okay. My heart's in the right place.

When I think of these haphazard mornings, I often am reminded of one of my favorite Bible verses, "[God's mercies] are new every morning" (Lamentations 3:23). You see, God's mercies are new every morning; teenagers' mercies are not.

I wholeheartedly believe that more than my students wanting a teacher who arrives hours before the first bell and has copies neatly stacked and ready to go and never encounters a dilemma while using technology, they want a teacher who cares about them. They want to be taught by someone who listens, by someone who empathizes, and by someone who believes.

Typically, with teenagers, you get one shot. If you can't prove to them on Day One that they matter to you, you've lost them for good. Why should we expect any differently? Most of us are that way after all. Take my husband, for instance. He likes you until you give him a reason not to. After that, while he'll forgive you, liking you is forever out of his mindset.

As teachers, we prove ourselves on Day One. We walk into the classroom (or sprint to it, in my case), and we put our hearts on our sleeves, showing students that we teach because we care for them. If we can't do this, we lose many students for good.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not foolishly believing that all students get on board with us and love us unconditionally from that first day, but the truth of the matter is that if we lose them on that day, it's hard to ever get them back.

Because we teach students who really just do not have it in them to greet us with new mercies each morning, we have to be that person. If Johnny had a bad day yesterday and sent us home in tears, it's our job (or our calling) to come in the next day, ready to help him through whatever made him act that way.

Our mercies must be forever new.

Introduction

I am a fifth-year teacher at a small rural high school in South Carolina. I mostly teach 11th grade English, some Advanced Composition, and Yearbook Production. My philosophy of education is the same as most teachers as I believe that every child can learn given the right environment and the right tools. However, I also believe that we must prepare children for the futures they realistically face. Once they leave us, they will move out to a society where Thomas Friedman believes "the world is flat." They will compete for jobs with people from all over the world, and it is our responsibility to help prepare them for this inevitable future.

I believe that teaching must first begin with two things: passion and concern. We must have passion for our profession and for our content, but we must be concerned for our students and their well-being. If you find yourself in this profession and realize you are missing those two things, replan your life. Teaching is not for you.

Teaching is hard and grueling work, but in five years, I have found that there is nothing more rewarding. (No, I don't have my own kids yet, so you naysayers rest assured that, in my life, this is the most rewarding venture I've found.)

Teaching requires heart and patience, dedication and resilience. Without these traits, you will either burn-out or blow-up, and neither makes for a pretty situation. In that sense, however, teaching is not always pretty. Teaching is knowing what kids go through at home, and teaching is wanting, with your whole heart, to be able to adopt every one who isn't treated like the special person he or she is.

Teaching is about wanting to make a difference every single day, but teaching is also about sitting back and being willing to learn. I learn something new from my students every single day, and regardless of meeting AYP or getting into college, there are students who have taught me more than I could have ever dreamed of teaching them.

I teach because it's what I know and it's what I love. When I think about the future, I can't picture myself outside of the four walls of my classroom. It's just where I belong.

Oh Saturday...

My sweet, patient husband and I slept in until 10:47 this morning. I feel horrible when I do that because I feel like I've wasted so much of my day. My momma always says my body wouldn't let me sleep that long if it didn't really need it. I hope she's right. I do feel slightly better today after battling two weeks of ickyness.

I'm still feeling overwhelmed by life, and really, by yearbook. This too shall pass, I guess.

I began this post last Saturday (2/11), and I'm just getting back to it now. I'm thinking that says a lot about how my days have gone.

This past week, I got to go to the SC Teacher of the Year Winter Workshop, and I left feeling rejuvenated and immensely proud of my profession. As the National Teacher of the Year, Michelle Shearer, said, "There are 47,000 teachers in public schools in South Carolina, and every single one of them could be doing something else. Teaching is a choice that we make to impact the future." My only wish as I left the beach on Friday was that every teacher could experience that workshop and be reminded of why they started down this path and why teachers matter so much.

Settlin' In

It's cold. Who knew? Yesterday, my husband and I strolled around the neighborhood while I wore flip-flops and capris and joked about getting a tan. It was only a partial joke as I really think I could have had some serious bronzing going on. Today, it's cold and rainy and our heat is running again. Global warming is no joke.

I'm currently trying to get in the mindset to read 20 papers on topics my students value. These are personal supported opinion essays where each student picks a topic about which he or she is passionate and then supports his or her opinion with research. I'm hoping some of them will be fun. Praying, is probably more accurate.

Speaking of praying, I've been spending my 20-minute trek to school in prayer and worship. It honestly seems like the absolute best start I could have to a day. This morning, I was listening to my David Crowder Band Church Music cd, and my favorite song touched my heart in the perfect way. Know that this song always moves me, but not in quite the way it did today...



Isn't it amazing that God would be jealous for someone like me? That love is amazing, and I am so unworthy...yet so very honored and grateful.

Above Water

I am so busy. It is my own fault. I don't say "no." It is simply not a part of my vocabulary. However, I am working extremely hard to keep my pretty brown-haired head bobbing just above the water. Luckily, life hasn't capsized me yet. Still yet, I don't know that being just ahead is something I should be proud of...should I?

I start each day with a "to-do list" that seems to be a mile long. Everything on it is not something I have to do; some of the list is made up of wants. I never get everything marked off in a given day. I'm beginning to accept that this is life...at least what life looks like for a responsible adult.

I guess this is all to say, I haven't been blogging with any sense of regularity. I am busy. I am "Weight Watching" (8 pounds gone). I am teaching. I am being a wife. This week, I'm working on making some time for me.