A Letter to Teachers: Let this Ignite Us

Dear Fellow Teachers,

After watching the horrifying video pictured below several times, a wave of absolute sadness hit me. Then, and without warning, a tsunami of anger. This is not our America. This is not what we stand for.

I have spent the past few years terrified and confused about the future of our country. I have buried my head in the sand, just waiting for things to get better. I am not talking about politics. I am talking about an epidemic of hate and the growing tolerance for it.

No more.

The faces of those young men- smug, arrogant, yet so so so ignorant. Those faces are hiding in our classrooms. They are lurking in our halls. While I wish I could say with certainty, they are not, I know I would be wrong.

We can change this. We can stop this.

Yes, I know.....but social media, but friends, but parents, and youtube, and media, etc. etc.

We are on the front lines. We are this country's first line of defense against what brought those boys to that spot. To stand in front of a Vietnam Veteran- a man who fought for them and the country they live in. A man who's ancestors have more right over this land than any other man ever has.

Those faces haunt me. They also ignite me.

We can hit this hard. We can make an impact. 

You may say, "my classroom is small in comparison" and you would be right. But multiply your current student population by the numbers of years you have/will teach. Thousands of hearts to change and lessons to be learned.

This battle is just beginning. I am awake. I am ready to take this one. I am ready to fight for MY country.

See you Tuesday.

Mrs. B

How the Adoption Wait Compares to Pregnancy

Beginning the adoption process takes the same leap of faith which pregnancy requires. You have to jump- all in, without really knowing how it will all play out. You begin this process not knowing how long it will take. The wait for a match is similar to the wait for a pink plus sign. In both situations, you can do your best to ensure that it will happen, but your control is limited.

In adoption, just like the wait to become pregnant, you question whether or not this is the best path. Whether or not you will be a good parent to your potential child. This time is filled with questions, concerns, excitement and worry. When you finally get the match call, it feels like seeing your future on a pregnancy test- a jumble of emotions.

Baby bump

I have carried two biological babies. I have waited for them through months of similar ups and downs. Similar in pattern, however the degree of emotion does not compare. Our boys were with me every minute of my wait. I could feel them, bond with them, protect them. Our daughter is not with us, she gets sick without us, she reaches milestones without us.

With pregnancy, there is a predictable "end date", with adoption no timeline is predictable. Each step comes with a wide range of potential wait times. None of which are in your control. Even the parts that are yours to facilitate, rely on others to return paperwork, notarize, review, process, etc.

Hearing word of the completion of the next step is comparable to an ultrasound in pregnancy (other than the predictable timing and personal scheduling). You wait and wait and wait for the day and when it comes you are so happy- riding a wave of pride and excitement.

Preparing

When your next family member grows in your belly, it is a constant reminder to all who see you. Your family is clearly growing. With adoption, people forget. Our boys have spent months being excited about the addition of their sister, and they forget. They have stopped believing that it will actually happen. It's been a year and all we have is words on the computer and pictures from across the world.

With pregnancy, when people ask you questions about your child and when they will arrive, it is clear that you are the expert. You have all the answers. With adoption, you don't. You only know what others tell you. You are not the expert on the timeline, process, or even your child. This is the most frustrating difference for us. When others ask for news, our response is almost always, "We don't know". To not know is tough.

When you are pregnant you know that your child will come to you as an infant who will learn who they are in front of your eyes. They will grow with your love and support, turning into someone who has pieces of you within them. With adoption, your child grows with the influence of others and their love. They become their own person without you. When you finally come together, they are already beginning to become who they will always be. Everyone has to learn about one another in bits and pieces. It's not gradual and fluid, it is disjointed and full of trial and error. We haven't even experienced this piece firsthand, and yet we know it is to come.

A care package packed with hope

When we decorated our boys' rooms or bought them outfits, we felt confident in our choices. When babies are born, they don't care what outfits they wear or what paint color you chose. When it is a toddler, they might. When we shop for our daughter or plan her bedroom decor, we worry she won't like it. We worry that we will not be in-tune with her personality and we will make the wrong choice. Will this fit her? Does she like purple? Pants or a skirt? Bright colors or calming ones? Dolls, cars or both? We won't know until she's here.


At the end of pregnancy there is birth. At the end of adoption there is "Gotcha Day". Both come with strong emotions ranging from pure love to deep fear. With birth you snuggle your precious baby and still feel exhausted, overwhelmed, and frazzled. On the day we take custody, I expect to feel all of these feelings as well. Babies cry a great deal in infancy, but you are the one that brings safety, comfort and relief. With our daughter, there will be many tears, but they will come from grief. I will not be the person who she wants comfort from. Instead of calming when I snuggle her, she will likely push me away, being sad and scared and feeling alone. Our relationship will have to grow in bits and pieces. The connection will not be instant. Although I will be on paper, I will not be her mommy in her eyes. I will be a stranger.

All our babies are worth the wait

No matter which way your family grows, it is hard to wait. Emotions come and go which vary in strength and length. For our family, the things that are different seem to pack more punch. Waiting through our daughter's adoption process is far more difficult and the emotions are heightened and never subside. Good or bad, they linger.

Someday, I hope, I will look back on this process and remember it as I do each pregnancy. "It actually went by fast", "In hindsight, it wasn't that bad", "It feels so long ago". I have said all of these things referring to my pregnancies and their births. I hope that soon I will be able to say the same when referring to this wait.

There are so many ways in which pregnancy and adoption compare and contrast. Pure love is the biggest similarity. In both, your child is your child. You love them with all of your being, you sacrifice for them daily, you wait on pins and needles for the day your lives join. No matter how your children come to you, the love is the same.

Getting Back

Hot dog in Central Park

For several months now, we have not been doing a good job with our family goals. Well, I guess we just shifted them for a bit, which I am totally glad we did. We needed a bit of a break. For many years, Joe and I have had a focus on debt pay-off, being super careful with a monthly cash budget, and have focused on healthier, home-cooked meals.

Anniversary trip view

 Since summer began, those goals  somewhat went by the wayside.  Specifically, the month of August. Between a conference in New  York, an anniversary trip, friends staying with us, and a family  vacation to the beach, we spent a lot more money than we are used t  to. We also ate a lot.......and I mean, a lot....of anything and  everything.

Bestie Vaca Weekend

Because we have been so focused and disciplined for so long, I do feel that this past summer was greatly deserved and a needed break to help propel us to the end of our debt pay-off plan. I have to say, I learned a great deal about my priorities after reflecting on this summer. I cherish the memories made and the irreplaceable experiences had, and I am now totally ready to get back on track.

Family beach trip

I spent this morning, my last weekday before school officially begins, clipping coupons, baking lemon poppy seed muffins, and cleaning our house after a whirlwind month. You know what? I loved it! I have missed this. I have missed the focus, purpose, plan. I am so so so ready for the structure that the school year will bring, for the home-cooked meals, baking, goal-setting, and a renewed focus on the future.

We are so close to the end. The hard part will be over soon. We just need to get back to it and stay with it until we pass the finish line. Today has been a great start.

Dear Mentor,

I thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

Because of you, I am on a path that I would have never thought was within my grasp. Because of you, I have confidence in my skills and my intuition. Because of you, I see value in my ideas and am eager to share them. Because of you, I am mindful of the qualities needed to be a leader.

Without you, I would be a hard working teacher, but I would be learning at a slower pace. Without you, I would continue to be a follower. Without you, I would happily take on the ideas of others with little deviation. Without you, I would be content in my current abilities and leave true growth for the future.

Teaching is hard. Being a parent is hard. I have spent many of my years as an educator trying to balance the two hardest jobs I will ever have. For many of those years, I was all too happy to be stagnant- just "making it through". I have always loved my career. I love my students, my content, my path. I was content to be what I was and love my days in my classroom without change.

I'm not content any more. Because of you, I want to be more and because of you, I know I can be. Because of you, I don't want to wait for the future. Because of you, I have the drive and focus to be better now.

Being an educator requires that you never stop learning and growing, so I know that there is no end to the process. There is no finish line to cross. However, I also know that I can be more thoughtful every day, not just "someday". I can be the educator I want to be today, adjusting what that looks like as the years and lessons come and go.  I have learned that being the best me does not come with a title or test scores. It comes with a choice.

Because of you, I have made that choice.

Thank you for being my mentor. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for helping me believe in myself.

Admiration Always,
Your Grateful Student

Student Appreciation

Every new school year, I have to relearn, rework, and re-imagine my job. With every new group of students I need to learn who they are, what they need, and how to best support their education. Every year, this is a long, changing process. This year in particular, has been quite challenging. It has been difficult to feel as though I am doing my best to support all of my students, to teach them the skills they need to know, and to do my best as an educator. I have struggled. It has been difficult. A week ago, my thoughts about the end of this year consisted of excitement for summer break, excitement for next year's schedule, and preparation for doing things differently. I was ready.

Since then, my thoughts have changed drastically. This past week was Teacher Appreciation Week as well as conferences. Throughout the week, cards and snacks trickled in from my sweet students, as they usually do. But this year, my students gave me a gift that I was not expecting. Gratitude, true appreciation, and a profound sense that I have done my job this year, that I have made a difference. These are the things that I needed. They are the things I didn't know I needed.

Wednesday (our last day with students this week) one of my quiet, sweet young ladies met me at the door first thing in the morning. She had a bouquet of flowers and a handwritten note in hand. I love the flowers, but it was what she said that I took to heart. She thanked me for taking extra time to teach her writing skills that she had struggled with and gave me a big hug. Although I know we have worked together quite a lot this year, I did not expect this. I had no idea that my extra time meant so much to her. A wonderful way to start my day.

My beautiful flowers

Then yesterday (our first day of conferences), I talked with many students and their parents. Much of the day went as conferences usually do, but there were some differences from conferences of the past. My last set of visitors before our lunch break changed my day. She changed my perspective. I will call her "E". "E" came in with her dad, who has attended each of the conference days this year. Each time we meet, I get to gush about how wonderful of a student "E" is, how respectful and responsible she is, how she has grown into a tremendous leader, and about her publish-worthy writing skills. Every time we meet, it ends in all smiles. This time it ended in much more.

"E" entered my room with a painting in-hand. A painting she MADE for me. She spent hours of her time creating this painting as a Teacher Appreciation gift. Just as with the flowers, the painting is so appreciated, it will hang in my classroom forever more, and words can't express my gratitude. However, the words behind the painting are what has changed me. "E" and her dad told me how I have inspired her, how she has learned things from me that have nothing to do with conventions and sentence structure, how she appreciates me and what I have done to help her grow as a young adult. When they left, nearly forty five minutes later, I didn't mind that I had missed most of my lunch. I had all the energy I needed.

A stunning painting from an astonishing young lady

Later that evening, a mom stopped by my table. She asked how her daughter, "K", is doing and listened to my positive comments and suggestions. It seemed, once again, like a normal conference. Then the mom asked about a small group activity with a local author that I had arranged for our aspiring 6th grade writers. She told me how much "K"had appreciated the invite to the event and how it had led to a novel project that her daughter and a friend had created. She also told me that "K" spends hours telling her about our classroom discussions about bullying, homelessness, teen activism, and leadership.

She said that her daughter tells her about the respect she feels in our classroom, how I talk to them like adults, and that we talk about grown up topics. She thanked me for inspiring "K", who is very quiet, to be a leader and to stand up for what she believes in. This same young lady, gave me a card the day before as well as wrote me a very thoughtful, specific letter about how I have impacted her school year and her life.

Every year I hear (as every teacher does), "You are my favorite teacher!", but these interactions were different. These students had more to say. They had specific reasons why our time together matters to them. They used words like "inspire", "respect", "challenge", and "support". I left conferences dreading the end of the school year. Realizing that I have only one month left to complete my work is a sad thought. I want more discussions with these students. I want more chances to reach them. I want more time. My struggles with this year are no longer front and center. Now my limited time with these amazing young people is what matters.

It always surprises me who gets the most out of my classes. This time, it may be me.

One Week Pinterest Food Challenge

I love Pinterest. I spend far too much time scouring pin after pin. I have pinned close to 3,000 things, all with the intention to use them in some way. I, like most "Pinners", rarely actually do anything with them. My Pinterest page has turned into a graveyard of all my good intentions and creative inspirations.

My husband and I are waiting to get my son's blood test results, which could shed a lot of light on some uncomfortable symptoms he has been dealing with. Obviously, I'm going crazy waiting. So the only sane thing to do is to give myself something else to obsess about.

Our family always struggles with what to make for dinner. We procrastinate, until we give up and make boxed macaroni.....again, or make a quick stop at Taco Bell. Our stomachs and our food budget are not feeling so hot.

Three issues, one solution: A One Week Pinterest Food Challenge!

For one week, our family will only eat dinners found on my Pinterest profile. We will use the recipes that I, apparently, thought looked delicious. We created the menu for the week, will shop for any needed ingredients tomorrow, and spend the next week trying new recipes. Each day I will post a review of the recipe made, including how the kids liked it, as well as a link to the website where the recipe can be found.

While narrowing down our long list of pinned recipes, I learned a couple of things about items found on Pinterest. 1. Many of the "easy" recipes are not, in fact, easy. 2. Many of the websites which the pin takes you to have nothing to do with what you pinned or the page is inaactive. 3. Every website associated with recipes comes complete with pop-up and ad, after pop-up and ad. So, this little project also helped me to clean out my food board.

Our Menu

Sunday- Teriyaki Turkey Meatballs, rice and egg rolls

Monday/Tuesday- Enchilada Casserole

Wednesday- Pork Schnitzels with Mashed Potato Pancakes

Thursday- Herb Crusted Chicken in a Basil Cream Sauce with Pasta

Friday- Pretzel Dogs and Extra Crispy Oven Baked French Fries

Saturday- Buffalo Chicken Garbage Bread

Sunday- Crisp Meat Burritos 

I'm very excited to have something silly to focus on, to put my hours for pinning to good use, and to find some new, yummy recipes to add to our families short list. Let the challenge begin!

Fighting My Gut Feeling

It started almost two weeks ago. We were celebrating Liam's 5th birthday with close friends. It was a wonderful day, filled with happiness, love, and laughter. After the guests went home and we all started to wind down, we noticed that Liam had hives on his belly and back. This had happened before, so we gave him some Benadryl and didn't think too much of it.

Very early the next morning, Liam found his way into our bed and the constant scratching became something we were well aware of. After just a couple of minutes of his tossing and turning, my husband decided to turn on the light, to which we found him covered, head to toe (literally- scalp to the tops of his feet) with huge, bright red hives. Since our youngest was still sleeping, Joe decided he would take Liam to the emergency room, while I stayed home with Nolan. I hated every minute they were gone. I wanted to be with Liam, to help sooth him, to make him feel better.

When they finally returned about an hour later, Joe told me that the doctors believed that the hives were a reaction to the antibiotics that Liam had been taking for an ear infection, that they gave him a dose of steroids, and stop giving him the meds. We did.

Sunday went by, every minute he looked a little better. Monday morning arrived and I noticed that his ears were a bit read and were sticking out a bit. I scoured his body for any other signs of irritation, but only found the remnants of the allergic reaction. I reluctantly took him to preschool with a pretty unsettling feeling. Within two hours, Liam's preschool coordinator had called, saying she believed he was getting worse and should be picked up.

By the time I got there, he looked miserable. The hives were back, his eyes, ears, and lips were swollen, and he could barely walk (at the time I thought it was due to the uncomfortable rash on his legs). I rushed him to urgent care, where once they heard the words "swollen lips" they looked a bit more worried and urgency could be felt. We were shuffled to a room within a minute or two, where Liam was watched closely by three doctors and two nurses.

Two hours later, we were sent home. I was terrified to leave, due to their constant reminders to call 911 if there was any swelling of his tongue or breathing issues. He was, once again, given steroids and we were on our way. It took three more days for Liam to feel well enough to return to school. Even though the constant rash was a thing of the past, and scratching done resulted in an instant hive that would disappear within a few minutes.

We made it through work and school on Monday, but when I arrived to pick him up, he was barely walking and looked like he was on the verge of tears. Once again, I took him to see his pediatrician, who told me it was just a muscle cramp in his leg. Totally unrelated to his health issue of the week before.

We went home, did the things he suggested, and within two hours Liam was running and playing like
normal. We thought, for once, we had an easy answer.Then pick up on Tuesday resulted in the same situation. We did the same things as the night before, which once again, resulted in a happy boy. Wednesday, the leg pain migrated to the heels of his feet. Today, his feet were bothering him, yet again.

His smile lights up the room!

Due to his allergic reaction possibly being thanks to antibiotics, our pediatrician suggested that we take Liam to an allergist. Today was the day. Unfortunately, because he is still hiving at the slightest scratch he couldn't be tested on his skin, as they usually do. We were sent to a nearby lab to have his blood drawn to be tested that way. Unfortunately, after two failed attempts, a ton of tears, death stares, and four nurses, we left without a drop of blood.

I'm worried for many reasons. 1. His allergic reaction was so severe. 2. We don't know what, if anything, he is allergic to. 3. His leg/foot pains make him walk like a 70 year old man and breaks my heart simultaneously. 4. Autoimmune diseases run rampant from both sides of his family tree. 5. We have to go back to try a blood draw again tomorrow.

What if he is really sick? What if this is more than muscle cramps and allergies? What if my broken genes are hurting him? What if whatever is attacking him, doesn't stop? What if we never find out what is causing this? All I can do is think about my poor little man, who celebrate his birthday between painful illnesses. How can I watch my little boy be so sad, scared, and confused? I'm trying to be strong for him. I'm trying to be proactive rather than feeling defeated. I'm trying.

I Avoid Media: 5 Reasons Why

Media is the route of all evils. Since banning it from our home in November, my perspective on what is out there has changed. We all get desensitized when we are on media-overload. You don't know just how much, until you take a break and "re-sensitize" yourself. Last night we lost a remote. The one that controls Netflix, our DVD player, and Pandora. My husband and I were stuck watching network TV. I was busy with school work and soon my husband was snoring on the couch, yet the TV was still alight.

It wasn't until I closed my computer, done with work, that I realized what was on. It was a "news" program where they focus on one or two "important" news stories, going through every detail. This particular episode focused on a death that occurred during the making of a movie. It was NOT news. It was NOT entertainment. It was horrible.

Watching less than an hour of TV last night, reminded me just why banning it was so important. Avoiding something makes you see it for what it truly is, and media today is garbage. Here is a short list of reasons why our media is ruining us:

1. Death is Not Entertainment: I will admit, before having kids, I loved CSI, Forensic Files, and Criminal Minds-type shows. Since having children, I realize just how messed up that is. Even "news" programs such as Dateline and 20/20 focus on every horrific detail of someone's worst moments. I don't need to see a frame-by-frame from the speeding train's perspective as it hits and kills someone. Why is it interesting to watch stories about people being killed and worse?

2. Culture is Dying: There was a time when people played music, told lesson-teaching stories, played wholesome board games, and were active to entertain themselves. Now, we rely on a screen that plays out our worst fears. No wonder we have all become so cynical.

3. Pitting Us Against One Another: Just about every piece of media imaginable pits people against one another. When every story is written in a "us against them" scenario it only creates hostility, when there shouldn't be any. The media creates fights, arguments, scandal. Stupid.

4. Narcissism: Every article, news program, TV show has a message board. Everyone's opinion is asked and shared. Why does your opinion matter. You know nothing about what happened, other than what the media has chosen to tell you. Why does this make you an expert? Why does that give you the right to share or even have an opinion? I don't care what Eva Mendez said about yoga pants. I have far more important things to worry about. Yet one quote, taken out of millions of words that have come out of her mouth, can generate blogs, "news" articles, opinions, and hours wasted. The media is making us think that our opinion matters far more than it should. It's making us think we all have the right to comment on the lives, words, and beliefs of others. It is creating narcissists.

5. Nothing of Value is Valued: When someone does something amazing and uplifting, if it even makes it to the news, it gets a blurb. Nothing more. Yet Kanye West and his wife create headlines that last for days. I don't want to see your butt, Kim. I don't want to hear your rants, Kanye. It's not just that the media is portraying unrealistic standards as the norm and the goal, but the standard that the goal embodies has nothing to do with someone's true value. It has to do with how much controversy they can cause. Drama does not equal value, success, kindness.


I am not a conspiracy theorist and I'm not saying we don't have screen time on occasion. We do. We just make conscience choices. I'm aware that I participate in Facebook, write a blog, and read articles now and then. There really is no complete escape from media's grasp. I am simply thinking critically about what is obviously being done. My time away from media has given me an objectivity and clearer picture of the facts.

I Hate Cancer

Up until a year ago, I felt very disconnected from cancer, what people who have cancer, and those who love them, go through. Although, like most, I have some personal experience with the disease, but nothing quite "hit home". My Gramps died of melanoma, but he had also just lost my Grams and he felt "ready" and "gave up" on life. Although he passed from cancer, we have always associated it with a broken heart rather than a horrible disease. When my dad was a child, he had leukemia, but he beat it and it has never returned. I have also had many years of being asked if I have cancer, due to my hairless head. But I have never really known someone when they were battling such a relentless, heartbreaking sickness.

This all changed last year, when one of Nolan's pediatricians passed from breast cancer. I knew all about her battle as she confided in me the day we met, as most people in her position do (I assume my baldness helps them to feel an instant connection). However, when I last spoke with her, just 3 months before her death, she was in remission, feeling well, and in positive spirits. It wasn't until her passing was announced at the doctor's office, that I even knew the cancer was back. So fast.

About the same time that we learned of her passing, Joe came home with horrible news. His friend and co-worker was diagnosed with leukemia. In the last year, he has gone through cancer, chemo, and remission, several times. Each time resulting in incredibly optimistic highs followed by crushing, heart-wrenching lows. In the past week or two, he went from finding a partial bone marrow match in a family member, to being told that he is not healthy enough for a transplant. The cancer has taken over his body. There is nothing left that can be done, but hope for a miracle.

Just as the school year began, I learned that one of my past students (a family I know well, as I have had three of their children- so far) was also battling this horrible disease. She too has gone through chemo, a bone marrow transplant, and is now getting stronger and stronger each day. I am so happy for the path that she has found herself on. I am thankful for the friends and family that surround her, for the doctors who have kept her strong, for the donor who shared his healthy bone marrow, for her strength, and for the long, healthy life that is stretching out in front of her.

Throughout this past year, my thoughts on cancer have changed. Now, being asked if I have it is not annoying. I know those who ask are either looking for a connection or they are offering support. Either way, they are good people. Good people whose lives should not be darkened by cancer's awful shadow.

I hate cancer.

Support

I hate that the bravest, strongest, best people on this planet leave us too soon. I hate that family and friends have to suffer as they watch their loved one suffer. I hate that no matter what we do, no matter what medicines we try, no matter how much love we share, or support we offer, sometimes cancer still wins. I hate feeling powerless, helpless, and heartbroken. Waiting to hear news we have always had hope would never come.

I am not religious. However, several times over the past few days, I have prayed for a miracle and I will continue to do so. For all of these people. For all who cancer touches. For everyone.

I hate cancer.

Am I Evil?

Please tell me I'm not evil. Please tell me I'm not the only one. Please tell me that you feel and act exactly the same way when your husband is sick.

I hate to admit it, but I become an inpatient, uncaring, horrible wife when my husband is sick. My lack of understanding could be due to the fact that he acts like a gigantic baby when germs get the best of him. Or it could be how he requires total isolation when he feels the tiniest sniffle. Or it just might be the fact that I become a single parent (to three, rather than two), housekeeper, and cook when he is down for the count.

It could also have nothing to do with my husband at all. It could be the fact that my kids go completely bonkers when one of us is feeling low. As was demonstrated while I was preparing dinner, when my youngest decided to dump food coloring all over the pantry floor. Or earlier today, when he dumped out an entire, brand new box of wipes onto the floor. Or when the oldest decides that today is the day to throw every temper tantrum possible in a 24 hour period. I may resent him for putting me in these situations.

Another possible reason for my frustration could be that when I am sick, I am still here. I help as much as I can. I rest on the couch, so that I am still available to him and the boys. When he is sick, he hibernates. He is essentially useless to me and the kids. It could be that too.

Either way, no matter what the reason for my intense frustration, it is there. I actually get angry with my husband for being sick. I know it's not fair. I know my grumpiness doesn't help him get healthy faster. I know that he can't do anything about it. But I still do it. I still feel the way that I do.

Maybe it is that he is such an amazing husband and daddy, that I just don't know what to do without him. I have never felt like I have to parent alone, except when he is sick. I never feel neglected or forgotten, except when he's sick. He is my true partner, in everything that we do, except when he's sick.

You would think that this would make it easier for me to be nice to him when he's not feeling well. Unfortunately for him, I think it makes it harder.

Get well soon Joseph. Or I will have no choice, but to ignore the fact that the boys are headed up the stairs, strait toward our bedroom, in all their noisy, energy-filled, "I miss Daddy!" glory.

No Need for Resolutions

Every year, I do what millions of others do. I make a promise to myself in hopes of making the coming year better than the last, one way or another. Several times my New Year's resolution has related to my weight, being happier, eating healthier, having a more positive attitude, being a better teacher, enjoying every moment with my boys........the list goes on and on. This year, there will be no promises, no resolutions.

Over the past few months, I have realized how lucky I am, how imperfectly perfect my life is, how much I love who I am, who my kiddos have become, and how much I appreciate the relationships I have with the people in my life. I have zero reason to promise myself that it will be "better" next year. This does not mean that I have everything that I want or that our life is easy. It just means that I am content with where we are, who we are, and the progress we are making. At this point in life, Joe and I have high hopes for the future and goals we hope to reach, but none of which require me to change me. I can continue to be exactly who I am.

Having no resolution, nothing to change, is so liberating. I feel no need to pep myself up or tear myself down. There is no fear of letting myself or my family down. My only hope for this year is that I end it with the same feelings about resolutions-not needed.

No More News in This House

I made a decision today. There will be no more news in this house.

It is a well known statement that "everything you see on the news is sad, depressing, negative". Currently, more than ever before, this is true. I have spent my life with the core belief that people need to be informed, educated, current. I teach middle school history, where I focus heavily on the mistakes of the past and how current events connect to them. I do still believe in these things, wholeheartedly.

The reason for my family's boycott of the news, is not that I don't care about the atrocities that plague the earth, it is quite the contrary. I am saying "no" to news because I care too much. For every hour of news viewed, I spend three lying in bed being sad, wishing I had the power to stop it, worrying about what the horrible news of the day could mean for my family and loved ones. It has gotten to the point where I sleep very little and I worry too much.

The truth is, I get one chance to be happy, to love and teach my boys, to live a life I am proud of, and I refuse to let the things I can not change take those things away from me. I don't want to know anymore. I want to focus on my family, encouraging my students, and make memories with my friends. I want to live my life with as much peace and happiness as possible.

If something that could threaten the health, safety, or happiness of my family arises, I am sure I will hear about it through the grapevine. The one that consists of the people who love me and my family, the one that has our best interests at heart. With the time I have used to worry and be sad, I will be happy, peaceful, encouraging, positive, and hopeful. I can only hope that our decision will bring the same for our boys.

There is so much beauty in this world. I want to see it.

Peace and Beauty

Given' it a Go

For months, I have struggled with creating a healthier menu for our family. Since we have been so budget-conscious for the past three years, we have been living on foods that consist of the coupon-worthy/last until the end of time variety. Although I know we are trying to do the best we can with what we have, I think that there has got to be a way to do better! That is why Joe and I are giving a natural, non-processed, non-boxed meal plan a try. Due to our budget constraints, this will take some planning and preparation, but we are committed to giving it our best, beginning Oct.1st.

Our goal is not to be on a "diet", nor is it to put restrictions on our boys, it is to make sure that what we eat is the most simple, healthiest food available. Get back to the basics, as it were. We are a very active family, and we want our food to work with that lifestyle. We have always tried to instill a love of "real" food in our children. We have a garden, which we plant, water, harvest, and create meals from as a family. This has become a cherished part of our time together.

The gist of our game plan:
1. Cut out packaged foods
2. Focus on fruits, veggies, whole grains, and lean meats
3. Make and/or bake all our meals from the purest ingredients possible

Plantin' some corn

Based on our own family needs, there will be some exceptions to the rules:
1. Baking ingredients are fair game. I see them as essentials, and refuse to drop them from our diet.
2. If at a restaurant or are guests in someone's home, we eat what is offered. Our goal is not to be rude or impose our experiment on others, but if friends/family come our way, we will make the meal based on our new guidelines. GUESTS BEWARE!

I know this will not be easy, could be quite time-consuming, will probably be budget-strenuous, and could require a great deal of imagination, but I think it will be totally worth it!

Stay tuned for our weekly menus, the ups and downs of our foodie adventure, and how it all pans out (pun intended)!

Happy Day

Pancake Picnic '13

It is extremely fitting that this post will be #200. Today, my boys and I had our second annual Pancake Picnic in our backyard. When comparing the pictures from our first P.P., I realized just how much our lives have changed. Obviously, we are all a year older.

Nolan has his own plate this time, he's using a fork, and sitting on his own. Where last year, he was pretty much an observer, who spent his time in my lap. Liam is the same silly, happy pancake muncher as he was last year, with one exception, he has grown into the greatest big brother Nolan could have ever asked for. I have changed too. I'm happier, healthier, and am feeling a sense of peace within our situation.

Pancake Picnic '14

Even the background of the pictures have changed. A year ago, we were living in our first home. This time around, we are enjoying a lovely meal in the shade of an Asian Pear tree that grows in the yard of our forever home. Life has changed so much in the past year. It's difficult to remember what life was like at the time that last year's picnic occurred.

 I love the changes that we have gone through, the progress we have made, the little men that my sons are becoming, and the love that is growing. Happy day!  

Silly boys!

We're Broke

I've been considering writing this post for some time now, but always decide against it for various reasons. I have gotten to the point where, I just can't wait any longer. Our friends and family need to know why they hear "No." so often.

The Brooks family is broke. Sort of. We are not broke in the sense that we don't have money that could be dispensable, we do. We are broke in the sense, that it is gone, used, has a purpose. My husband and I, chose to go down the debt-free future path, about two years ago. We have worked hard, and paid off a lot of debt. But selling our house, renting, then purchasing our forever home, put our debt-pay-off-plan on hold for about 9 months. We are finally getting back to it, and have set a pretty lofty goal for ourselves. We want to pay off one of our student loans by this time next year. It is doable, if we stick to our budget......if we say, "No."

Smart Advice from Mr. Dave Ramsey

I hate to disappoint people, especially the people I care about. So when we are asked to go out to dinner, go to a movie, take a trip etc., it's very hard to always say the same two letters: N. O. It's also hard to feel as though we are skimping on things. When we give gifts, they are small, simple, basic. When Christmas or birthdays are approaching, it takes months of planning ahead, and a great deal of budgeting to get the job done. Although it seems counter-intuitive, this a major reason for putting our family on a budget. We want to send our parents on that trip they have been dreaming about. We want to pick a gift, based on the interests of the person, not the price tag. We want to be able to be the generous, thoughtful people, that we wish we could afford to be. We want to travel as a family. We want a future free of the stress associated with debt.

We don't want our friends and family to stop including us (or trying to), we don't want to be thought of as "cheap" or "stingy". It's quite the opposite. We want to give ourselves the opportunity to be the "yes" people in the future. With debt hanging over our heads, we would never truly feel comfortable with larger purchases, family/friend vacations, dinners out without reading every price on the menu, or shopping for ourselves without feeling guilty. Becoming debt-free will help us do all of these things and more, while still being responsible and thoughtful about our money.

Joe and I, own our choice. We stand by it. It doesn't bother us to miss out on these situations for the time being, because the goal is that we will be able to enjoy them in the future. We want to instill smart finances, and financial responsibility in our boys.

I don't feel sorry for us. I'm proud of our choices. My goal is for the people around us to understand WHY we say, "No.", WHY this is important to us, WHY we make the choices we make.

Our Debt-Free Future Inspiration

The Big 3-0

I have spent my whole life ignoring this specific number, this specific birthday, this specific realization. When I was young, I never thought of thirty as "old", but I have always thought of it as mature-the end of the childhood/young adult phase of life. It always seemed so far away. A distant future, that I didn't need to think about just yet. Then it happened, time went by-elementary school, middle school, high school, college, grad school, the first 5 years of teaching, a wedding, and two births-and here I am.......thirty.

Why does the jump from twenty nine to thirty seems so big? Why have I always thought of my true grown up life beginning at this exact day? I have no answers, I have no reasons; but it's true. Did I really change over night? Of course not. Did I go to sleep youthful, energetic, and happy, but wake up wrinkled, tired, and frail. Nope. Yet I still feel it. A change.

Thirty is just a number, it is just one day of my life. Nothing more, nothing less. But it does seem to hold a great deal of power over many of us. I still believe that thirty isn't old, but mature. It's no longer in the distant future, it is now in my past. The day has come and gone, and the only thing that has changed is my answer to the question, "How old are you?"

I would have to say, that the hardest part, is that it seems as though yet another chapter of my life is behind me. Yes, there are many more ahead, but this one was great. One that I wish I could revisit from time to time. Not just in memories and in pictures, but really visit. I do embrace the future. There are many wonderful memories to be made, new chapters to write, pictures to be taken. But no matter where my future takes me, it can't change how thankful I am for my past.

Thirty years is a long time to learn, grow, and shape yourself. Every one of the days I have lived has made me who I am, and every day from now on, will shape the future me. So, although I'm working on truly embracing this new era of my life, I am owning my uneasy feelings. I am embracing my day to day. I will enjoy it. I will love life. I will be thankful. Everyday.

Buying a Short Sale

When we began looking for our new home, we had no intentions of focusing on a short sale or foreclosure, but it didn't take long to realize how great of an idea it would be. We had the perfect situation. We were renting a comfortable, nice home in a great neighborhood, we had the down payment saved, and we felt no rush to find a home or move. We were ready to find the perfect house, even if it meant waiting months to hear whether or not we got it. We also realized that the homes we were most excited about, just happened to be short sales. We found quite a few right off the bat, that we wanted to give a shot. The first house we made an offer on-we were out-bid. But were given "second place" position-meaning, if the first buyer's offer fell through, we would be next in line.

The second was a beautiful home, in the perfect neighborhood, but was a rental for years, so it didn't have the best up-keep, and needed lots of updating. We decided to put an offer in on that one as well. Our plan was to keep looking at any other homes that we liked, while waiting for either of the short sales to come back. We thought that news from the bank (one way or another), would end up being our timeline for finding something else. We thought we would have tons of time! Short sales usually take months. We had three weeks. The bank accepted our offer on the second home almost immediately (for a short sale), which floored us, our Realtor, and the seller's Realtor. No one expected that.

When we found out, we panicked a bit. We had just seen another home-not a short sale-earlier that night, and were trying to decide between the two. Luckily, the offer came on a Friday, so we were able to give ourselves a couple of days to figure it out. We decided, too quickly, to put an offer in on the new house. The second we signed the paperwork, I panicked. I knew instantly, that I didn't want the offer to go through. After letting Joe know how I was feeling, we quickly contacted our wonderful, patient Realtor, and rescinded our offer. I felt horrible, but I knew that it wasn't the house for our family. I'm so glad that I spoke up!

We thought long and hard that weekend. We came out knowing that the short sale home was the one for us. We waited for the inspection, which came back with a few issues, but we had a plan. We asked for the bank to lower our price based on the repairs needed. Once again, we were told that dealing with a bank might be difficult, and the seller's Realtor was sure that they wouldn't accept our new offer. Three days later, we got news that the bank had accepted it. Yay! Once again, we waited for the appraisal to come back. Today it did. Once again, great news!

It has been six months since we moved into our rental, and here we are packing again. Short Sales are nothing to be afraid of. Although I know that our situation is not at all the norm, it is possible. Short Sales can offer buyers a wonderful home, for an even better value. This time, the move will be far less emotional, more exciting, and we can't wait to make our new house, our home!

Rental Life

We have been living in a rental home for almost 6 months now. It has gone by quite fast and has been a relatively easy adjustment to make. Although it has been easier than we expected, there have been some rough parts, some of which we didn't plan to be an issue. When we moved, we thought it would be nice to live in a home where upkeep was not our responsibly, where we could call the landlord anytime we had an issue. Well, that hasn't been as easy as we thought. Having a landlord to call when something goes wrong, means that you have to deal with a landlord. Ours has not been so wonderful.

When we moved in, we realized AT THE WALK-THROUGH (apparently, no one had any idea before that), that the fireplace and the stove didn't work. We could care less about the fireplace, but a stove is a bit of a necessity. When the issue was "realized", the landlord told us that it would be fixed before we were to move in a week later. Needless to say, that didn't happen. In fact, a week after we moved in, it was still being figured out.

Who figured it out? Oh, not the landlord. We did. We talked to HomeDepot, we had to be here for the handyman who took the old stove out, for the men who were to install, then the electrician, then the when the men came back to install it for a second time. All of which HAD to happen during a the normal work day, of course. Then there was the hot tub. When we moved in, we were told we had a choice: use the hot tub and be responsible for maintaining it, or they would pay to have someone come to clean and weather it. We chose the latter. It took almost a month for someone to take care of it, with the water sitting in it, running periodically.

All of these issues were made enough, but then came the realization of going from a house that is our own, into a house that is not. Our boys' bedrooms are plain, boring, and covered in scribbles and stickers from the previous owner, there are boxes of the owner's junk in the garage, that was left for us to find, pack, and store, but the worst part has been the drive. We only live one town from our previous home. It adds about 15 minutes to Joe's drive in the morning (because he leaves so early), but about 20-25 minutes more to both of my commutes and Joe's evening drive. This has been quite an adjustment both for our evening family time, and our wallets. It costs us about another $100 a month in gas to live where we are-a fee we didn't plan on.

Now that we are in the process of purchasing our forever home and we can see an end in sight, we can see our time in the rental for what it has been, a time to look for our real home, time to save a bit of money, and time to figure out what we are not willing to give up. Location, size, yard, and neighborhood. I'm sure that there will be time where we have fond memories of this house and our time here, but I'm not holding my breathe for that day.

Nolan's 1st Birthday Party: One Year and Ten Days in the Making

Big Brother!

Every mommy dreams about, and dreads their child's first birthday. Party planning tends to be one way to bury the sadness that your baby is growing up. Nolan's first birthday came with an extra side of sorrow, when I realized that it fell on a conference day (meaning I would be working through the evening hours). Knowing that this is probably our last, first birthday party and that his actual birthday would be one I would spend away from him, I went full force into making his party a special day for both my boys, as well as Joe and I.

Cookie Decorating Table

I spent over a month planning for Nolan's big day. We came up with the perfect theme, and created several crafty projects to make the day fantastic. We were all looking forward to it......then life happened. Three days before Nolan's party, Liam got a fever. We had planned to go out on a family field trip the Friday before the party, since we wouldn't be able to celebrate on the big day. Because of Liam's fever, we stayed home. We kept hoping he would get better in time, but when Saturday rolled around and he was still feeling crummy, we decided to cancel. It was one of the hardest decisions I have had to make so far.

Gifts!

Every one of Liam's birthdays have been awesome. Joe and I have taken the day off every year to do something fun, and his parties have always gone off without a hitch. Now, poor Nolan. Mommy works 10 hours on your birthday (the first one!), then we cancel our family outing, now the actual party! It made me feel horrible!

Snacks!

Joe was fantastic in helping me see that we could salvage the situation. We quickly came up with a plan to reschedule for the next weekend (in between two other birthday parties). We were so lucky that everyone was able to come, even with the very short notice. Then life hit again. One week, to the day, of Liam's fever beginning, Nolan started acting uncomfortable. We were going to have this party, even if it meant that I would give flu shots, antibiotics, and vitamin C as party favors, so we rushed him to the pediatrician to try to get him healthy ASAP.

Nolan's cake

We were relieved (as relieved as you can be to hear that your child is sick), to find out that he had an ear infection and would be given antibiotics to help kick it in the rear. At least he wasn't contagious and we could treat it! By the time his party rolled around, his ear infection was better, but the antibiotics were making him quite sleepy/spacey. We had his party and it was awesome, even if he looked like a zombie the whole time.

Thank you to everyone who joined us in celebrating our Teddy Bear's first birthday! It meant a lot to us that you changed your plans, just for him. We have such amazing people in our lives!

The Red-Eyed Return

Back before Liam was born, there were two years when a mysterious and persistent rash occurred around my eyes. Both years, the redness began right around the holidays: the first, the week before Thanksgiving; the second, on Christmas Eve. The rash began the same way, a pin-prick sensation all over my eyelids-top and bottom. The intensity of the pin-pricks quickly went from an annoyance, to a burning sensation. It felt as though the skin around eyes was sunburned and chapped. They were dry, peely, and sometimes swollen.

My dermatologist, primary doctor, several specialists, an ophthalmologist, and my Thyroid doctor, all tried to figure out what could be causing this occurrence, as well as a treatment which would cure, or at least, help treat it. I went through countless topical ointments, natural lotions/creams, allergy tests, and even a biopsy, with no sign of relief or answers. After 6 months (the first time), the rash went away on it's own. We may have done something that helped, but no one knew what. The only thing that seemed to help, was to be on prednisone, a strong steroid, with many side-effects. Even several rounds of this only eventually worked(?).

The next year, when it happened again, we were ready with the steroids, but still had no answers. The second time around, it only lasted for three months. Only three months!?! Only three months of looking and feeling horrible. Only three months of even more stares than just being bald warrants. Three months of sick days, missed family functions, and hiding out in our apartment. I'm used to looking "different", I'm used to the stares, but the pain of the cold, the wind, the light, were so horrible that all I wanted to do was hide out.

The next year, I was pregnant during the holiday season, and like my other auto-immune "issues", pregnancy seemed to hold off the red mask. I flinched at every tingle or dry patch the next year, but nothing came. Same for the next. Then another pregnancy. I was just starting to feel comfortable. Big mistake! I was just starting to think that something might actually have gone away on it's own. That maybe, just maybe, alopecia, eczema, allergies, and a wonky thyroid might be enough for one person to handle.

I was wrong. Over the weekend, I felt the familiar tingle. I tried to head it off with benadryl, lots of eye-approved, all-natural lotion, and extra care to not touch my eyes. It didn't work, and every day since, it has gotten worse and worse. Yesterday, was horrendous! My first day back with my students, and my eyes were sore, red, dry, heavy, and swollen. Just walking to the door of the school was a painful errand, with the cold and the wind stinging with every step.

Since Nolan is still nursing, even the ointments and steroids that helped in the past, are not an option. So, I continued to be proactive. I have put lotion on my eyes every hour or so. I take benadryl at night before I go to bed (since that's when my eyes tend to swell), and again when I wake up (to correct the swelling that has still occurred), and I am washing my hands constantly. Today, I am much better. Still red, a little sore, and the tiniest bit swollen, but I feel as though I have just a tad of control over the situation.

Although I am quite aware that I have no real control, and body will do what it does, I at least feel as though I am making progress. Hopefully, being persistent will have it's payoffs.