Promise...

All your children shall be taught by the LORD,
and great shall be the peace of your children.

Isaiah 54:13

Teacher funk...

Apparently 46 is the ideal age. It has to be true; Bill and Lynda said so on the radio this morning. Supposedly we're settled in our careers, comfortable in our families, secure in our finances, and still young enough to enjoy our settled, comfortable, secure lives. Good to know.

Unfortunately, I feel very unsettled.

Or maybe I'm bored.

I don't know.

I have a friend who is continually asking for feedback on his/her teaching via all sorts of social media, and I feel pretty guilty. And tired. I'm just not up to asking everyone to tell me how I'm doing. To be honest, it's all I can do to focus on pleasing my Audience of One. I feel like a pretty big failure.

I've learned lots of lessons this year, though, so I guess that's good. I've learned that I'd all but stopped learning for a while; I've changed that.

I've learned that being a teacher without any kids at home is completely different from being a teacher with kids. As a parent I'm more aware of the bigger picture than I was when I taught before Kelsey was born. Back then I thought that a student's entire world should be academics with maybe a little sports on the side and an optional sprinkling of youth group. Walking through the student years with my own babies, I realize what a small portion of real life those things are. I suppose school is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. So much more "becoming" in life happens under the surface.

I've learned that kids are beat down on a regular basis. Parents make demands. Teachers make demands. Coaches make demands. Friends make demands. Employers make demands. Almost everyone demands 100% effort, 100% of the time. Almost everyone is telling them they can/should do better. And instead of spurring them on, very often it's beating them down. We're raising a spectacular generation of kids who are perfectionistic performers or rebellious quitters. There are very few who fall in the middle.

I just want to let the kids know that God made them exactly the way He intended to make them so that in Christ they will bring glory to Him. Some kids are academics. Some kids are mechanics. And it's an awesome thing to be either, if that's the life the Creator has written in His book.

I hate feeling meh when I think of my teaching job.

Maybe I should just go back to selling real estate.

As a matter of fact...

I am feeling a little poo-like today, so I'm sitting around with an ice pack on my neck/head.

When I feel better, I want to go to Ikea. Or the beach.

You know, if they'd put an Ikea AT the beach, I'd be really happy.

And then I'd move there.

Some days I miss my...

... first period "Below Average" (DPS's term, not mine) English class from 16+ years ago. I wonder where they are now.

Happy Zackerday!

Zack's birthday came and went amid a blizzard of volleyball games, football games, tests and quizzes, laundry, and housecleaning. Bless his heart. He was born in the busy season. I'm not talking about the tightly-packed-schedule season. I'm talking about the Help-I-am-suffocating-with-things-I-have-to-do-and-place-I-have-to-be season.

Yet my little guy is such a trooper. For his whole life he's been along for the ride, literally and figuratively. Sometimes he handles that with grace. Sometimes he struggles. Always he is my baby baby, although he flip flops on liking that at age nine.

This year we decided that we'd celebrate his "family" birthday in a low-key manner. He opened a couple of presents at breakfast, a couple at lunch, and a couple at dinner. The schedule was his request. That was last Sunday. On Monday I took cupcakes to lunch. He was the hero. Cupcake-takers always are, now that sugar is all but banned from school cafeterias.

We cruised through the rest of the week without birthday festivities. We did manage to have a manic third-grade studying week, though.

Then Friday arrived, and we celebrated in a total blow-out at Frankie's Fun Park.

I can't begin to tell you the knot I had in the pit of my stomach over inviting every boy in his class and a couple of his football buddies to come to Frankies. There were 13 boys, and the party was decidedly all-boy themed. But it turned out great. Yep, beyond all we could have asked or imagined. Rest assured, I was asking loud and often.

I leave you with a few pics of the festivities. I am thankful for God's kindness and faithfulness to a tired mom and her sweet nine-year-old.

As a matter of fact...

...yes, the lawn is 90% dead.

I suppose that's a good thing because when the leaves start falling in a few weeks, we won't have to rush to blow them off the grass. You know, since there won't be any.

Confession...

Pepper and I both need haircuts REALLY bad(ly).

Confession...

As we drive down Canal Drive, I think sometimes it wouldn't take much to sell everything back home, move here, and open up a little shop on the boardwalk. Or work at a surf shop.