Students...precious, aren't they? :)

As many of you know, I teach 4th grade and LOVE it. Teaching is definitely my calling and my passion. For those who teach with me, they know what a stickler I am about my classroom. I love things organized and in their place. I have a place for everything and train the children where to place certain papers, books, manipulatives, etc. It works for me and my students. One thing I am very particular about is my chalkboard. I love a nice clean board. For as long as I have been teaching, I have almost always cleaned my board (with water) at the end of every day. Sometimes twice a day depending on usuage. It's just a quirk Ihave. I like writing on a clean surface. Well, yesterday I had to leave work early due to illness. I arrive back today and what's the first thing I do? Grab my rag, wet it and come back to clean my board. It is then that I noticed that things are not quite right. There appears to be black smudges here and there all over my board. I then notice the most hideous eraser I have ever seen. As I wiped my board down, I noticed the dark spots were not coming up. I take a closer look at the ugly eraser and realize it is a whiteboard eraser! Someone had borrowed my (in excellent condition) chalk eraser and brought back this one. And the Science teacher (unbeknownst to her) used the dry marker eraser on my chalk board, hence the dark spots.
(bare with me...punch line coming)
So, obviously, I was upset. And the kids noticed. After about my 3rd or 4th comment over my displeasure at my now sullied board, one sweet little angel (no, really, she is a sweet heart!) raised her hand and said, "Miss Thompson, I think you may be OCD."
Ha ha ha....I looked at her (laughing) and said, well aren't you precious! The class of course was laughing...I too was laughing.
Me OCD?? hmmmmm you think??
:)

Parenting

Last night Shelby and I went to a friend's house for supper. During the course of the evening, two of the children needed correcting. My friend dealt with it swiftly and with love. I commented to her that I loved the way she disciplined her children. On the way home, Shelby said, "so mom, you like the way Miss --- disciplines?" I said yes and proceeded to explain why. This lead to a discussion about the different ways parents discipline or don't discipline their children. She then asked the one thousand dollar question: "Mom, who taught you how to parent?"
That question left me a bit speechless. I fumbled around a little, and then just basically said that I read some parenting books, prayed a LOT, and used some of my training as a teacher.

I kept pondering on the question. Who did teach me how to parent? Our parents are suppose to be the ones who teach us. But what if their 'teaching' was lacking because they, themselves were not taught properly? My parents where not Ozzie and Harriet Nelson or was it like Leave it to Beaver. Things were hard. But in retrospect, I now know they did the best they could. They themselves had rotten childhoods and did not have good parenting examples. So I totally have NO fault with them. But before I had children, I did resolve that I would do things differently when I was the mom. (disclaimer, I in no way mean any disrespect to my parents..as I stated earlier, they did the best they could considering how they were raised and the problems they had to deal with.)

I resolved to break the cycle when I became a parent. I read parenting books written by Charles Swindol, Dr. Dobson, and others. I watched the parents of the children I babysat. I observed how they dealt with certain situations. But honestly, NOTHING prepares you for the day when they put that screaming new born in your arms and say "congratulations mom". Mom. Oh crap. What have I gotten myself into! Am I really ready for the responsibility? That is when the cries of desperation began to go heavenward. I prayed constantly. Cried some too. But one thing I learned in all my reading and observing is that you have to stay consistent. Do not give in. Teach them right from wrong and then stick with it. Deal with situations as swiftly as the situation allows. Sometimes taking a breather before disciplining is necessary in some situations. Never look the other way because you are too tired. Those early years are hard years, but if you stay consisitent, it will pay off.

My own daughter is 17 1/2. Most likely she will be a mom within 10 years. She will embark on her own parenting adventure. I only hope that she has had a decent example. I know I did not do everything right; I have made plenty of mistakes. But I hope she can take something I have taught her and apply it to her own parenting style.

time

They say time heals all wounds. I use to think that was such a stupid saying. For some wounds seem to be too severe to ever close up and heal. I thought I had such a wound.

About 3 years and 1 month ago, all hell broke loose in my family. To protect the innocent, details are being ommitted. But suffice it to say, life in our family would never be the same. Due to the circumstances, I had to cut all ties with my mother. This was not an easy decision. You see, up to this point, we had a pretty decent relationship. Perhaps a bit dysfuntional, but it was all I knew and had. We talked constantly. Always calling several times a day. Sometimes I would just call to tell her something as stupid as the latest cat escapade. And she would do the same.

But that all ended abruptly. I cut ties, she left town, and I have not heard from her in over 3 years.

The first 6 months were the hardest. I cried daily. Not only for her, but b/c of the aftermath of the situation I had to deal with here at home and with other family members. The situation was on my mind constantly. As months turned into years, I eventually thought of her less often.

And to my surprise, hadnt thought about her for a while until last night.

Last night the dreams returned. In the early days of her abandonment, the dreams came quite often; usually me sceaming at her: why? why did you chose him? why didnt you chose us?

Last night, after I awoke from having that horrid dream, I realized it had been a while since I had dreamed about her or thought about the situation that drove her from our lives. I guess a mothers day commercial I saw on tv triggered the dream.

While it still hurts, I guess the saying has a bit of truth to it; time has healed the wound. I carry around a fresh scar, but it is healing none the less.

ponderings

It's been a while since I posted. I guess I just dont take time b/c my life seems so mundane and boring, and who really wants to read something that may put them in dream land??
I am not the brightest bulb out there, and dont understand the full economic stuff and all the bail out junk. I don't understand how the credit market and housing market affect the stock exchange, etc. But what I do know is that life in the United States as we knew it is changing. Somewhere along the way our liberty is slowing being stripped away and we are oblivious to it. The govt keeps printing money and bailing out various business/industries. Bills are being passed that contain 'little things' here and there we know nothing about...YET. The gov't fired the head of a private business. Yes this business accepted gov't funds and yes, maybe he needed to be removed, but was it really the gov'ts place? I am a little concerned when the gov't gets in the car, banking, and morgage business. Ever since the first bailout under Pres. Bush one saying keeps coming to mind. In Star Wars, Episode III, Senator Amidala and another senator where sitting with thousands of other senators in the senate chamber. The Emperor Just annouced he was dissolving the Senate and the senate bursts into applause. She turns to her friend and says: "So this is how liberty dies, at the sound of thunderous applause."

Life...really?

Sometimes I wonder if I am cut out to handle this thing called life. It certainly is NOT easy. I hate all the emotions I go through. I hate the struggles, I tolerate the other humans. So, I guess that makes me a selfish whiner. Ok, so we will go with that thought.
Maybe I am selfish because I always hate experienceing any kind of discomfort. I want the rainbow, butterflies flitting everywhere, sun always shining kind of life. Well, it has not turned out like that. When I was in college I had a dream. I was going to get my education degree. Meet my husband, who would of course be in ministry as a missionary. We were going to go to a spanish speaking country, have 6 kids, all of whom I would homeschool, right along with any of the local children. We were going to live in wedded bliss serving the Lord. I bought and read scores of books on homeschooling, marriage, and ministry. (boys and girls, can we say the word NAIVE??) Then of course, that all fell apart my senior year in college when I dated someone I had no business dating, got preg. not married...well, you know the rest of the story. No husband, no missionary, no foreign soil, no homeschooling, no more dreams.

So, here I am, 39, single, and struggling with my faith, my finances, my family, with life. I am trying desperately hard to NOT worry and be anxious. I am confessing that daily, but I just have this overwhelming since of dread. I really wish sometimes I could completely see God and have a chat with him. (I dont mean that in a disrespectful or blasphemous way) But I feel lost and just dont quite know how to find my way home again, whatever home is.

The point of this blog?? I dont know. I guess I just needed to emotionally vomit. ...get it out.. because I feel I am on the brink...on the edge...one more thing and I will go tumbling over into a dark abyss, forever falling. (now, disclaimer, I am not suicidal...dont worry. I am just in a very tough spot and I dont see an end and I really wish at times I had a good husband (i know that in itself could be a another whole set of problems.) to bounce ideas and problems off of. I get tired of struggling alone...I guess that is why I wish (like Alicia said) that Jesus could put on skin again and pay me a visit.

accidental worry

The dreaded phone call came around 6:30pm. "Mom, I had an accident." I can not even begin to explain all the different emotions and thoughts that went tearing through my body and mind.
After I got her to calm down, she told me where she was at and I got there in record time.
Shelby is fine; very hysterical and shaken up, but physically fine. The other driver was ok too; although complaining of back pain. But they didnt leave in the ambulance, so hopefully we wont be facing a lawsuit.

This whole experience has really shaken both of us up. She is very reluctant to drive again. SHE has driven since the accident...but I have to 'make' her. And quite frankly, I am fine if she doesnt want to drive becasue I am afraid too. BUT I cant let HER know that. So I ignore my feelings and encourage her to 'get back in the saddle'.

This whole situation has dredged up an old enemy: worry. I have never really considered myself a worrier...but in a sense, I guess I am. Over the years, I have gotten better about trusting the Lord and not "borrowing trouble". But this has really thrown me. I worry she will have another wreck and that next time she wont walk off without a single scratch. I worry about how we are going to afford another car. I worry about finances. I worry about what we are going to do when my daddy dies..etc...and the list goes on and on and on....

But as the saying goes, this too shall pass. We will get those two stupid citations paid, shelby will drive again with confidence, and I will trust...maybe.

My quirky dad

Ok, so as most of you know, my dad has lived with me for a year now due to his health. And what a year it has been: constant trips to the doctors, middle of the night runs to the emergency room, frantic 911 calls, and just the daily care of his legs, meds, etc.

I am no martyr...but honestly, I do not mind taking care of him. It does get tiring...esp. the constant complaining. Here lately, he is convinced he is going to die of a heart attack. We have been to the ER several times. He complains constantly of pain; but there is nothing showing up on his ekg's. Nothing in his blood work either to indicate heart stress. Due to his thinking he is on deaths door, he has done some things lately that just are begging to be blogged by me. ;-)

Early this week we were sitting at the table eating supper. Out of the blue dad says, "Tonya, I want to pay for Shelby to get a tattoo." I dropped my fork and my mouth just swung open. Speechless, I was. (A little back ground info here.....off and on for a few years now, Shelby has wanted a tatoo. I always say, NO, not as long as you live in my house...)
I finally got my breath back and said, " Now dad, what exactly do you want it to say? Pops?"
And then of course I look at her and ask her if she put him up to that, she and he both said no.
Here was his reasoning: If you let her get one now, she will see how painful it is. Plus maybe she will get it out of her system and not want anymore." My response: Well, lets just let her go have sex, or go drinking so she can get it out of her system." Ok, I know, a bit unreasonable, but I was still in shock that he was taking HER side! :=) What her fascination with tattoos is, I dont know. And she has one all picked out just in case I say yes. Which, by the way, prob. will not happen.

Another day this week, I wake up and go in the kitchen. Dad is sitting there. I notice 2 packs of gum on the counter. He said, "those are for Shelby." He had gone to the store to get his mother a birthday card, and pick Shelby up some gum. Let me note that he is always doing that here lately. Everytime he goes to the store, he picks something up for her. He then told me, "I got her that. I dont know if you have noticed, but I have been buying a lot for her. I want to get her as much as I can before I die. Next month, I am going to ger her a blackberry". I said," A blackberry dad? come one, really? Does she need a blackberry?". He said, "Maybe not, but I want to get her whatever she wants while I am still able to do it. " Again, I was speechless. She has not asked him for a blackberry. I told him that inJuly our phone contract is up for renewal, and we would be able to get a better deal then. But he is convinced he is not going to live that long.

Then, today. I am on the couch reading. He walks out of his room and hands me several sheets of paper. He has written out his will. He has listed all his early possessions (which is not much) and who he wants them to go to. By each one, he wrote a personal note to the person receiving the item. (very touching, and sometimes, just plain funny) He wanted me to make sure it sounded ok. I said, yes, dad, it does. So he signed it, and I put it in a safe place. I am hoping I will not have to pull it out for a very long time.