Along Came Holly…

After many months of contemplation, I have decided to officially become a catholic.  I was married in the catholic church to a catholic man, his family is very devout, my mom was born and raised catholic (even attending catholic school), and most of the adults I know identify the catholic religion as their “religion of choice”.  I don’t want anyone to get the impression that there is some sort of peer pressure here, or that I’m doing it because everyone else is…quite the opposite.  If I had felt any pressure, it would’ve come when I was getting married and we didn’t do communion during the ceremony because the bride was still a heathen awash in original sin.

Ultimately, I decided I need God in my life.  If my fertility journey has taught me nothing else, it is that there is something bigger than all of us pulling the strings.  I have thought about becoming a catholic for quite a while, but the timing was always off or I knew I could not commit to weekly meetings because I had these two grad classes I was taking on top of my regular full-time job…it never worked out or felt right.  After I made it a resolution in January to begin attending church on a weekly basis, I began seeing that this is something I value and want in my life on a more permanent basis.  I met with the head of Adult Faith Formation at our church over a week ago and committed to this beginning in the fall.  She gave me a couple books to look over and I must say that they have been helpful thus far.  I am coming from ZERO understanding of Catholicism short of what I learned from attending church and The Passion of the Christ movie that came out several years ago.  I’ve even managed to teach my husband something new about his faith, which is awesome since he will undoubtedly be helping me as I navigate these waters for the first time.

Welcome back, readers.  It’s been a hiatus, but when I’m inspired to write, I’m inspired…

First, I admit I have been totally sucked in to the hype surrounding the end of the Oprah Winfrey show next week.  I’ve been DVRing the shows for the last several weeks and I have really enjoyed watching them.  She does some interesting shows, and her final ones are some of the best yet.  Except, damn her.  She can always make me cry.

I will preface this by stating that it is close to my hyper-emotional time of the month.  I got choked up several times at school today which is really unusual this time of year, mainly because I’m ready to be done with the year.  I had the students write letters to another student in our class in fulfillment of one of our end-of-the-year assessments.  We do this every year, and while I try to give the students questions to help guide their writing, these letters generally turn out fairly perfunctory.   This year’s letters were phenomenal.  I had all I could do not to cry when a few of them brought them up for me to read.  Cry, not only because I am so proud of the accomplishments many of them have made as writers over this year (and last year in the case of my second graders), but because they were incredibly heartfelt, sensitive, and complementary of one another.  I have struggled this year with some clicky kids, too many chiefs and not enough Indians, and the like–the normal team atmosphere I try to establish took a long time to gel and I have been doubtful if it really ever took with this group.  Today gave me peace of mind–the students did not get to pick who they wrote to, and yet they all dug deep and thought of loving and kind things to say to one of their peers, and in almost every case, the child they got was not a good friend.  I was so proud of them and I made sure I told them so.

The next Kleenex moment came late this afternoon and it was also attached to a writing assignment.  I have several cards with writing starters on them–I use them at the end of the year when I’m fresh out of interesting ideas.  One such card asks the students to write down 10 questions they would ask our principal if they were interviewing him.  We did this, but then shared our questions in small groups to help narrow down our questions to two questions a piece.  We then shared these whole group in order to avoid repetitive questions and helped one another decide on our one burning question.  We submitted these to our principal (who just came in November) for answers.  Being the good guy he is, he came to our room at the end of the day to personally answer them.  It was such a great time.  They asked him all sorts of professional and personal questions and he was so open to answering them–when we generated the questions, we had some discussion amongst ourselves which popped up again as he answered their questions and we had a few “inside” jokes we laughed about.  It was a real team bonding moment and all of us truly enjoyed ourselves.  It made me sad, however, because this group is done in 10 days and will change for another group in the fall.  I always grieve a little for the loss of trust and closeness the students and I build every year, but this year was harder than most, so it was much more rewarding to see that rapport come to fruition and it’s bittersweet to picture it fading away.

As I often do, I’ve gotten slightly off-topic here.  I almost cried twice at school.  The tears just flowed this evening, however, as I watched Oprah.  While I take many lessons and insights away from her show, the paramount feeling I leave with is that there are so many people in this world who are much stronger than I am.  I bitch and moan about the little things in life (who doesn’t?), and I get really raw sometimes about the endless battle I’ve endured with my fertility, but I have faced NOTHING in comparison to these people.  These people are built of far greater stuff than I and I am generally in awe.  And Oprah–it amazes me how she can see and hear some of these stories and not just sob through the interview.  I get it, that’s why she’s a professional broadcaster and I teach munchkins how to read, but I think she may pinch herself off camera or wear spikes in her Christian LeBoutin heels to deflect the pain.  She sheds a tear now and then, but I am literally trying to pull myself together and breathe.

So, Damn Oprah for finally breaking me down and making me cry after a hard day.  My dam broke and it was cathartic in a sense.  I’m ready for something different to finish off the TV viewing tonight–I’m going to watch her give it to James Frey.

Now some people say that you shouldn’t tempt fate
And for them I would not disagree
But I never learned nothing from playing it safe
I say fate should not tempt me

–Mary Chapin Carpenter, “I Take My Chances”

This is the song I’ve heard in my head all day.  Like a fool, I decide again and again to flick fate in the face and blaze my own trail.  Despite all I know about myself and my limitations, I test it.  Taking common sense and giving it the finger.  The big f-you.  I am such an idiot.

I decided to run again outdoors today.  I will say I seriously debated the decision, but when I heard it was 40 degrees at 6am and that it was only going to get colder, I decided I could handle it.  I bundled much more sensibly today, pulled the Yak Trak’s onto my dried out tennis shoes, and hit it.  About three houses down, I remembered that I forgot to shut the garage door and turned back to do so. On the return trip, I realized all the sidewalks in my neighborhood were snow-free and just damp from the overnight thaw.  So, like the inexperienced winter runner I am, I ditched the Yak Trak’s, thinking I could handle any random ice spots I came upon.

Mistake #1.

The next mishap came about 3 blocks later when the game became Holly v. the Sidewalk Lakes.  My right foot was saturated and dripping wet with dirty water and slush–I couldn’t see it clearly because the city of GR does not believe that the streets need to be properly lit.  I dealt with this though, because I was running and I really couldn’t feel how wet it actually was.  That sounds insane to the non-runner, but it is true.  If I was walking or sitting, I would’ve obsessed about it.  I knew I would get wet, the blizzard snow was melting.  In truth, I think my foot was half-numb.

Mistake #2.

I kept running despite the crappy conditions and knowing that I probably needed the Yak Trak’s after all.  I didn’t turn around, though, because I knew it would feel like a cop-out and I wouldn’t have time to complete the run.

Mistake #3.

The sidewalks got so soupy and puddle-y, I opted to run on the street in the subdivision adjacent to ours.  As I was enjoying the downhill on the pavement and the building momentum, I hit a patch of black ice.  You can guess the result that I’ve been building toward…an American’s Funniest Home Videos’ worthy fall on my right cheek.  It stunned me that I fell.  It was really a sense of total disbelief, followed by utter humiliation and consuming pain welling in my ass.  I got up (did I have a choice?) and began walking it off.  At the corner, I decided that I had to start running again or it would take forever to get back home and then I’d be late to work.

So I ran another mile back home.

Mistake #4.

I am so sore.  I have a monster bruise on my rear end and I think I pulled every muscle from my heart to my tailbone in my back.  I hurt today, but I can hardly imagine tomorrow.  I might just be limping from one end of the classroom to another.

So that is my poor Valentine’s decision.  I will probably be paying for this for days to come, but at least I have a chiropractor appointment scheduled for Wednesday.  On a happy note, Ben bought me a surprise gift–tickets to see Bob Seger in Grand Rapids in April.  I’m glad my better half makes better decisions than I!

I had two remarkable things happen this week, both involving my New Year’s resolutions.  First, last Saturday, I went to church by myself.  This is hardly remarkable to the average bee, but being a non-church goer my entire young life, I was determined that I was going to church whether Ben was around or not.  He was up north hanging out with his friends and I went to the 4:30 pm mass on my own.  It was weird that I had no one to offer my first sign of peace, and it was really weird when I didn’t get up to take communion, but I did it nevertheless.  My reward was going to Target afterwards.

Then yesterday, I went running outside.  I know, I broke my own rule here.  But in the morning, I was laying in bed thinking, my gosh, the sun is shining in through our bedroom window and it looks gorgeous outside.  What a waste to get on the treadmill when I could get out in the sun.  So, I guessed about what I should wear (I learned a lot, here!), slapped my yak trak’s on my old running shoes, strapped on the iPod, took my phone (just in case I got hurt), and ran.  It was a rough run because I overdressed, the cold air and my warm lungs did not see eye-to-eye, and I learned what people mean when they say unshoveled snow is like running through sand.  I did walk in a couple spots, but I still went 1.75 miles and I did not fall once.  My shoes were soaked, but yak trak’s are the best invention ever made.  I did not even slip as I ran–they gave me an incredible amount of traction and peace of mind.

I’m not sure if I’m going to run again outdoors tomorrow.  It will be cold and quite wet as a result of the major snow melt.  I’ll decide at 5:30am, I suppose, but I’m not ruling the outdoors out yet.  And I didn’t use my awesome new shoes.  I’m still reserving those for the spring.

I cannot even deny it, I am absolutely enchanted, enamored, and completely ecstatic about the gigantic snow storm that has been predicted for Michigan in the next 24-48 hours.  I am excited for a variety of reasons…

First and foremost, getting at least one snow day out of this is great.  I’m thinking we’ll get at least two due to blowing and drifting on the mostly rural roads that make up our district.  That is a bonus here amid the long haul from Christmas to Spring Break–we have no winter break or anything resembling days off, so all the teachers get very giddy about this sort of thing.

Next, I am a weather buff.  I love following weather of any sort, but especially weather of the severe variety.  Ask anyone who knows me and I have been obsessed with tornadoes since I was old enough to talk–I was originally deathly afraid of them, but I’ve since progressed past my fear into a respect and admiration of the storms.  Winter storms have interested me as well, especially since I was born in a blizzard and lived as an infant through the Blizzard of ‘78.

Mostly, this storm sounds like one for the ages.  This storm is predicted to affect 33 of the lower 48 states, roughly 100 million people.  It is supposed to trump any 24-hour February snowfall record for the city of Grand Rapids, and the media has billed it as the biggest snow storm to hit Michigan since the ‘78 Blizzard.  We spent our lunch hour today listening to our older staff members reminisce about the Blizzard of 1978–where they were, what they did, how incredible all the snow ended up being once it blew around.  How schools were closed for a week–as if!  I have never seen that much snow  accumulate at one time (they’re calling for 10-16 INCHES in 24 hours!) and I have never watched it blow around like they are predicting it will!

Finally, I am so looking forward to just being forced to relax in my house.  I am going to read a book (0r two), bake some oatmeal cookies that I’ve been craving for a few weeks, and maybe even rock out a little bit to Rockband.  The chores were completed this past weekend, schoolwork is up to date, and with the exception of some shoveling and maybe a dog walk, I’m not leaving my house.  Snowed in means snowed in!  Target can wait until the weekend!

I’m happy to live through this one so I can tell my kids what it was like to live through the Groundhog Storm of ‘11!  It’s neat to think about being a part of something this historical–meteorologically, that is!

I just got back from my annual January retreat with my good friends to the Northern Snow Country.  I always so look forward to this weekend, just to really relax, eat comfort food, watch the snow fall, and bond with my fellow SWW.  We pick on one another, work out our worries, talk about the future, laugh about the past, and enjoy one another’s company.  We shovel our way in and out of the chalet, go shopping in small-town shops, watch movies all day in our pajamas, eat foods made with whole milk and heavy whipping cream, and earn nicknames we’ll call each other for years to come.  In short, this weekend makes me happy–and I dread when it ends.

I was reading a magazine this weekend that talked about little ways in life to experience happiness.  Sure, I look forward to vacations like the SWW annual retreat, but in the interim, I thought I’d make a list of the little things in life that make me happy…

• Clean sheets, especially warm flannel ones in the winter when they still smell like the dryer
• Cuddling with the animals
• Hugs
• Comfy clothes–sweatshirts and sweats when it’s cold, t-shirts and running shorts when it’s warm
• Cake
• My worn-in blue accented Nike tennis shoes
• Ponytails–I can’t wait until I can wear one again.  I’ve seriously, actually dreamed of having one again.
• Snow days
• Music, especially when I have made the playlist
• Romance novels (or in the words of Ben: smut)
• The color red
• Driving into the sun when it is coming up or setting
• Singing at church with other parishioners
• Having Dexter and Six Feet Under marathons with Ben
• Camelbak water bottles
• Watching kids during the moment that they really understand something
• Laughing, especially when it’s with my husband
• Noodles with butter and Jane’s Crazy Salt
• Swearing when I’m frustrated or angry
• Rockband–world’s best video game
• My heated mattress pad
• Jet’s Pizza
• Greeting cards
• Framed pictures of my loved ones–everywhere
• Football games on Sundays

I suppose I could go on and on, which I guess is the point.  It makes me feel good to think about all the little things that make me smile every day and help me get from one big “I’m looking forward to” event to another.

Embrace this day, loyal readers, I am looking at the glass half-full.

Shortly before Christmas, my good friend and fellow team teacher convinced me that we needed to propose an after school program for the Title I students in our building.  We brainstormed some ideas and she presented it to our staff and principal, and it was a go.  We worked before break and for the last two weeks pulling the program together, spending all our “extra” time creating items and lesson plans for the twice-a-week-for-8-weeks program.  I spent almost three hours this past weekend just cutting items out for the students to take home!

I am lucky enough that I only have five first grade students in my after school class, and they are all my students.  Today was our first day of class, and to be honest, I was dreading it.  After working all day long (and fully expecting a snow day after our ice storm last night), I was not sure I had the energy to deal with these students for another hour.  I could not have been more wrong–I had the time of my life this afternoon.  It was a tremendously rewarding afternoon, and I was reminded for the first time in months why I became a teacher.

The five of us read a book together, played a walking red-word game, and worked on adding playing cards by teaching the students how to play 21.  It sounds simple enough, but we really had fun together.  It helped that I already had a rapport with the students and they were all comfortable with one another because we spend all day together–but it was more than that.  I was able to focus my undivided attention on these five deserving students, enjoy and aid their learning, and laugh a little bit in the process.  With 27 students this year and at least 3-5 other adults in my classroom at all times, I haven’t had the luxury of really getting to know my students.  The students play games and share their lives with the other adults in our room–I am really a glorified manager, almost like the principal of our busy little room.  I manage the staff (my aides), create a safe environment, enforce the rules and discipline accordingly, and deliver instruction.  I have missed out on the opportunity to really know my students, and I really wasn’t able to quantify why I am so miserable this year at work…until today.  I don’t want to manage, hence the reason I NEVER want to be an administrator–I want to forge the relationships, get to know my students, and have an opportunity to have fun with them while we learn.  I don’t get to play games with them or occasionally eat lunch with them–someone CONSTANTLY needs my time–and the individual being shorted here is me.  This year has not been teaching for me.  It has been middle management, and I am certain I will never excel at being a middle manager.  I hate it.

As a realist, I’ve thought about today quite a bit and I have come to the conclusion that I’m not sure much can change this year.  The students and I are in a solid routine, they have bonded with one another and the other adults in our room, and there are 27 of them every day, for better or worse.  Being a manager when I’m supposed to be a teacher really pisses me off, but it’s the best way I know to get by in our overcrowded room and ensure that the students are still learning and making academic gains, which IS the ultimate goal.  We need a captain to get us safely to the end of the year, and unfortunately, I am that designated asshole this year.  I’m relieved to an extent to finally be able to put my finger on my misery in teaching this year and I know that next year, I will be self-advocating for low class numbers and fewer adults in my room.  I love all the kids and appreciate all the adult help I’ve received this year–I could not have made it this far without it–it’s all just a little bit too much and a little too out of control.

So for the remainder of the year, I will look forward to my Tuesday and Thursday afternoons with the After School Five.  They are a friendly reminder of my love of educating young children and the joy that act can bring.  They have helped me recapture my love of teaching and realize for certain that I don’t hate my job, my classroom, or my school…I just hate the sheer number of people I’ve been forced to manage this year.  Next year will be different; the After School Five will motivate me to advocate for a class size that is reasonable and fair so I can get back to the fun of education.

Ben and I were all prepped to go see what was potentially our dream home tomorrow.  After our realtor sent us an automated listing, we drove out to see it before church yesterday and I must admit, I was smitten.  With a house, I know, how pathetic.  It was on a private 15 acre lake, built in 2007 and completely renovated, almost 4000 square feet and the most perfect color of blue.  Then we got a call from our realtor that the house has a pending offer on it.  It was like somebody burst my balloon, I was really bummed.  I really thought that this was the house.  THE house.  It almost ruined my evening…

Until I remembered my new year’s resolutions.  I am going to run, lose my weight, and commit to going to church.  Everything else will hopefully fall into place.  I passed my first test of will.

So, after my post yesterday vowing I would wait until February before I began running again, I ran this morning.  I couldn’t help it, I got up in the very early am, and I just knew I needed to get back to my running.  I knew I couldn’t pick up where I left off in October (running 2-2.5 miles three times a week), so I reread the Couch to 5K training plan online and picked a starting point that I felt I could achieve.  I began with Week 4 and I DID IT.  It burned and I really didn’t think I could get through the last portion of the run, but I did.  I forgot what a sense of accomplishment I feel when I complete a run.  It is always a struggle and the battle between what my body can do versus my determination never ceases to amaze me.  I am always amazed at what my body can do.  I wish I had been more determined earlier in my life and discovered running long ago.  I think it would’ve helped me through some of my difficult times.

Running is my me-time, a chance for me to get lost in my thoughts and challenge myself to do things I never thought I’d do.  One of my favorite quotes is a line from a song: “It’s you against you, it’s the paradox that drives us all.”  I run to this song every time I run, because nothing else could so accurately describe my running.  The Blue Oyster Cult song “Burnin’ For You’ came on shuffle when I ran this morning, and it perfectly described my attitude today.  I was burning for running, and I achieved today’s goal.

SO…things are going better than expected in the resolutions department.  After a very disappointing experience at a non-denominational liberal church last Sunday, I hit the ‘net and started searching the Catholic churches in the greater GR area for something that would feel more like church for Ben and I.  To my surprise, we found that the priest who married us eight years ago has returned to the area and is at a church fairly near to our home.  We went there last night for Saturday mass and found that we really liked it.  Our priest is on his two-week post-holiday vacation, but we enjoyed the priest who filled in for him and liked the feel of the church.  It is a large church, both physically and member-wise, but there were opportunities for us to get involved if we’d like to in the future.  We will be going back in the coming weeks to make sure it’s a good fit.  I feel like I’m on the right track here.

As for the “get fit” portion of my resolution, I am doing okay here.  I got in my three workouts for the week as planned–it wasn’t that difficult to get up and get them done, because I already resigned myself to the mornings that I would do so and I refuse to let myself out of that commitment.  At the very least, working out has helped me maintain my weight despite what food I put in my system, so I have very little trouble sticking with the exercise portion of the event.  I did not begin running, though.  I used the elliptical one day and followed an interval training workout I found in Real Simple magazine the other two days.  Each day I did at least 1/2 hour of workout…but I feel like a failure for not running.  I know I can do it, but I have come to HATE running on the treadmill.  HATE.  It seems like the workout takes forever and all I have to look at is how slowly the time is passing, but I cannot see myself running outdoors in the snow.  I struggle with balance and coordination on a perfect sunny day, running in the dark and cold seems like a recipe for disaster in my case.  For now, I think I’ll use the elliptical and beginning running just a short distance on the treadmill.  I have to retrain for running, anyway.  It’s been three months and I know after that long away from it, I cannot just decide to run two miles.  I’ll have to build up to it again, which is also okay by me.  I figure by March, I’ll be able to get outside more, so maybe the running retraining will begin in February.

Ahh yes, the diet portion of the event…this is always the struggle for me.  This time is no different than any other–I hate feeling hungry and going without choice in what I put in my body.  We went out to eat after church last night and it was a less-than-exciting experience because I could only order about three things on the menu.  This is no fun for me, I want to go out and eat what I want, not make responsible choices–it’s supposed to be a treat, right?   It’s not really even that I can’t have dessert–although this is a big part of it for me–it’s that I can’t go have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich if it sounds good or enjoy graham crackers and milk if it appeals.  I’ve dieted enough in my life, sadly enough, so I know if I stick with it a few days longer, my hunger will subside, my body will adjust to the loss of my high sugar intake, and I will settle in to the healthy eating Ben and I have established.  I did lose 3 pounds, so that also keeps me motivated.  That and the large section of slacks and jeans in my closet that won’t fit until I lose another 5-8 pounds.  I HAVE to lose at least 10-15 pounds, that is non-negotiable.

So, I’m hoping to be ten pounds lighter and running a mile by Valentine’s Day.  I think I can do it and I have to have something to work towards and look forward to.  For now, that’s it.