This was my favorite day of the trip. My dad and I attended church in Koga with a family he taught while on his mission. I enjoyed church as for once I was the one being interpreted for, rather than doing it myself. It was a valuable experience to be put in the shoes of those I serve. I did have to laugh a little as there were times when I could tell my interpreter (a delightful young woman in her 20s who served a mission in the states and learned English here) was struggling to find the right word. Occasionally I would feed her the word just as I would with my team at church. Even when receiving the service, I guess I can't turn it off!
The highlight, however, was definitely meeting the Suzuki family. This family did end up joining the church in part due to my dad's efforts, and the ripple effect of that is HUGE. Not only are their kids and grandkids members, but they have also prepared (if I understood it correctly) 800 names of their deceased ancestors for temple work! We had dinner with the Suzuki family and one of their daughters. She herself had 6 children, which is highly unusual in Japan. They have a multi-generational dinner every Sunday, and the kids are always in charge of cooking. And boy did they! It was even worse than the plane...the food kept coming and coming and coming and coming and...and ALL of it was delicious! I didn't want to stop eating it, although at a certain point I simply had to. Which was a pity, really.
Watching this family interact with my dad and seeing the impact a person can have on hundreds was something I will never forget.
I know we took about a million pictures, and some included the entire family. Unfortunately, they seem to be missing at the moment. This is a post that may be updated later, as I am hoping we can get those pictures by e-mailing the family.
(To give an idea of all the train traveling we did, I have included maps of the different stages. This was the trip taken on Day 1, actually. Unfortunately, I inserted all maps one day off, and it was entirely too much work to redo it. I figure the point is still there. :) )
The sightseeing on this day began with a trip to the Shinkyo Bridge.
Along the way we had to cross another no-name bridge. This was actually the first one we came to, and I was so struck by the landscape that I had to stop for a picture. Little did I know how many more scenic pictures were to come!
mostly took place UNESCO World Heritage Centre where there is a large complex of ancient shrines and temples. Japanese architecture is so unique!
One thing I found very interesting was the emphasis on leaving wishes/desires in various places using various methods. In one area, the focus of these wishes seemed to be on relationships, and at the cajoling of my father, I left one of my own. For this particular one, you start by buying a fortune. Mine was...unexpected.
As it turns out, the love of my life is running late and I need to have some patience!
After one buys a fortune, you tie it on to any one of a variety of places such as structures designed for that purpose, hung string, or even tree branches. I chose to tie mine to a structure that I thought looked like a heart because why not? However, in keeping with my romantic luck, as I was trying to make sure it was tight, I ripped it! I don't even want to know what that means for my future! My dad and I could not stop laughing. A highlight of the trip for sure.
We spent the morning at the World Heritage Centre. With the heat increasing and not much else to see in the area (at least, not without spending more money and we needed to pace ourselves), we decided to head home. We couldn't figure out the AC for quite some time, so this was the solution. By the time, we did, it had already started to cool down. Oh well. All the places we stayed in used the same kind of unit, so at least we knew going forward what to do!
Japan is hot, ya'll! Especially when you can't figure out how to use the AC.
Every great adventure has a beginning, and this beginning involves hours and hours of planes, trains, and automobiles. You pay the price to travel halfway across the globe! We started with a 15 hour trip to Taipei. On this leg of our travels, I learned that when you fly for that long on EVA airlines, they REALLY like to feed you. The thing is, I always travel with food...you never know when you're going to get to eat next, and I don't want to be hangry! Never having done this before, I didn't know about the oodles and oodles of food. Somehow I had a real knack for eating a snack almost immediately before the food cart came calling. For the most part, I declined the offerings, but the attendants were pretty insistent. I absolutely ate more than I was actually hungry for.
So we did eventually arrive to Taipei, where we had a fairly short layover. My dad had lounge privileges, (I did not know this was a thing--I might be addicted now!) where once again, they had food. And it was free and representative of local fare. So I had to eat some! Then we boarded the plane, and this time it was only three hours. With one meal. Which I tried to decline, but ended up taking anyway. I was pretty much rolled off the plane at this point.
Once at Narita Airport, we had to take a train to Tokyo. That train station is INSANE! It amazes me that anyone ends up where they are supposed to be when they are supposed to be there. I really don't know how to explain the sheer confusion. The signage tells you what train line/track number, but one line goes to several different cities so if you don't know the line, good luck! By the time the trip ended, we had learned to head straight to information and ask what track number we were going to and what direction it was in. But we didn't know that yet, so we missed a train and had to start over with getting tickets and figuring it all out. Luckily, the trains are constantly coming, so missing it didn't put us behind too badly.
Once we finished our train travels (there were a few connections to different lines along the way), we still had to take a taxi to our airbnb. The driver claimed to know where he was going. He didn't. And honestly, we had a map to the place but didn't realize it in the mass of papers printed for our many different airbnbs. So the taxi took longer, and cost MUCH more, than we had anticipated. Towards the end of the drive, I noticed a woman getting out of her car. I had the idea to stop and ask her, although of course my dad had to do it (and all other communication) as he is the one who knows the language, at least somewhat. This ended up being the best idea that I take complete credit for, as not only did she know where it was, she walked my dad over there with the taxi following behind them. This was my first exposure to how incredible nice the Japanese are. I'm not sure I've met a nicer people on the whole. Other than the taxi drivers. But I'll be saving that little bit for another post.
Thanks to that sweet stranger, we made it to our place, which was a traditional Japanese house. I loved it. Other than the fact that we couldn't figure out the AC. More on that in the next post. (How's that for a tease? ;) ) It was definitely on the small side, but it was the perfect size for a single person like myself. It was also the perfect size for me--I was greatly amused by how low all the doorways were! So naturally I needed to take pictures.
The scenery when we first got in. It was dusk and overcast and just beautiful. I loved the brick streets set against the mountains. It was the very definition of quaint, and if I could live there I would. Straight out of a storybook! The pictures really don't do it justice, sadly.
At any rate, that's the end of day 1. After all that travel, I slept well that night!
I have finally taken the first steps: I have started adoption classes. I have had four so far, with many more to go. As well as a proverbial mountain of paperwork. I have found the classes to be mostly interesting so far, and I especially look forward to some at the end of the month called Trauma Based Relational Intervention. I have students at school that I think could be helped by this approach, so I am excited about the personal and professional applications.
What has been most interesting to me is the discovery of some personal truths during my most recent classes. We were talking about communication and attachment, and it occurred to me that it was a very good thing the ex (I like to call him HeWho, in Harry Potter fashion) and I were denied adoption. I have spent a lot of time being resentful toward Georgia DFCS for this denial, as it was the straw that broke my marriage's back. Being inherently logical, I knew it wasn't their fault. The issues existed outside of them. But as anyone who has dealt with them can tell you, they are not the nicest or friendliest people in the world. They were pretty awful to deal with throughout the entire process. Then they killed my dream and marriage in one fell swoop. I still don't like them. If you couldn't tell. But...
They were right.
HeWho had (presumably still has) serious mental health issues. Despite being resentful of DFCS, I have understood the whole time that really the mental health issues are what killed the marriage. After 7 1/2 years of trying, he decided that I was suffering too much and cut me loose. I didn't want to be cut loose, but I wasn't given an option. The deciding factor for him in this decision was the fact that we would not be allowed to adopt. But the truth of it was if we had been approved, it would have been a mistake of epic proportions that would have affected not only us but also incredibly vulnerable children. I now believe he could not have handled parenting traumatized children. Since the divorce, I have gained experience in working with students with some fairly serious behavioral issues, and it has helped me see what challenges we could have faced. It's one thing to learn about it and another thing altogether to experience it. We both felt it was right to pursue adoption, and it was right that we were ultimately denied. It is all part of a bigger plan. I know that. But with the passing of years and these classes, I have come to see that while adoption is MY path, it was not his. And in order to follow this path, a change had to happen.
I believe that the change could have happened as a married couple. He could have followed through on some actions I suggested (begged for), and it is entirely possible we could have worked through it together. As marriage is intended. However, he made the decision he was done, and so our paths diverged in order for me to fulfill my purpose.
Deep thoughts. Maybe next time I'll find something silly and inconsequential to write about. Switch it up a little. :)
If you couldn't tell, I gave up on my daily post competition. Life has gotten just a little too crazy, and I had to let some things go. It wasn't worth the added stress in my life. However, I do enjoy writing for this humble little blog and I enjoyed that the competition pushed me to do it with regularity. I've missed it in the past month or so. And today I had an experience at church that has me feeling compelled to avoid the onerous task of doing my taxes for just a few more minutes (it's April 14th!!!) and share my thoughts.
Today in Relief Society (my church's women's organization that meets on Sundays twice a month) we talked about mental health. I knew it was going to be a doozy of a day and that I should have worn makeup. I did anyway--stupid. Anyway, I survived that, but it left me with the thought that every woman in there has a story to tell but we often don't get the opportunity or feel secure enough with the people around us to do so. I have never been shy about sharing mine. It's why I started my blog. But when I "rebooted" it to try to move away from SO MANY POSTS about my divorce and the fallout and into more positive territory, I deleted my story as well. (Don't worry. I printed everything first!)
Positivity is a worthwhile goal, and one that is very hard for me. It's important to me to try to make this blog, if not more positive, at least less focused on an event that happened over 5 years ago. But I do want to take this time to briefly share my story specifically so that the women in my ward (a congregation) and in my life can know me better and maybe feel more empowered to share their own stories. I am not going to do a deep dive into all the issues, and I am going to try to do this with respect for my ex. Our stories are intertwined, so explaining who I am does involve sharing a bit about him. I will not use his name, and I hope to maintain a proper tone.
My marriage failed due to a mental health disorder. My ex suffered from...something. At one point he was diagnosed with Schizoid Personality Disorder, but then another therapist said that those with SPD NEVER get married so that can't be it. Whether that is the correct label or not is something I will never know in this lifetime. As human beings, we want to categorize and label. It helps us make sense of the world. Not knowing has truly been one of the hardest things I have endured and continue to endure. However, it has to be enough to know that whether that is it or not, he certainly checks off enough boxes for them to at least consider it. The symptoms are:
Prefer being alone and choose to do activities alone
Don't want or enjoy close relationships
Feel little if any desire for sexual relationships
Feel like you can't experience pleasure
Have difficulty expressing emotions and reacting appropriately to situations
May seem humorless, indifferent or emotionally cold to others
May appear to lack motivation and goals
Don't react to praise or critical remarks from others
The only one that doesn't fit is the last one. Additionally, he was diagnosed with depression and anxiety and on medication for a time. (He eventually stopped taking it.) As you can imagine, that would make for a difficult marriage. The signs started showing up the very first day and only got worse. He was my best friend, and he would often tell me I was his only real friend. There were good times. But it was HARD. The only way I was getting through it was by holding to the promise of our covenants and perfected bodies in the eternities. In the end, he decided he was holding me back and filed for divorce.
Now, it is pretty hard to argue with his logic. Our marriage was not truly a marriage, and my spiritual development was also being stifled. I see that now. But I absolutely did not want that divorce. Truthfully, even though it was a toxic and abusive relationship, I still don't want the divorce. I fought it every step of the way. In the end I lost. At that point, I moved back in with my parents in Texas to recover and figure out what my next steps were. I also had hopes I was moving to an area with a good singles program as it is the 4th biggest city in the nation. I thought it certainly had to be better than Augusta, Georgia!
When I got here, I spent a few months licking wounds and then threw myself into singles. I helped plan church-sponsored activities as well as personal ones. I knew I wanted to meet someone who would help me achieve my spiritual goals as well as my temporal ones, and I figured the only way I could do that was be in places where that kind of man would be. And if those places didn't exist, I needed to create them. I did this for years, but the truth is, the singles here (and pretty much everywhere else from what I've come to learn) struggle with activity and just don't go to things. I put my heart and soul into activities that had poor attendance almost every time. And of those that did attend, the ratio of men to women was typically 1:3 at best. I tried online dating many times. That has been a disappointment as well. I have had one date in 5 1/2 years. It was a completely platonic date by admission for both of us, and he is now married. Admittedly, I am quite awkward around the opposite sex. I have some seriously painful stories. So I am not a completely passive victim. But statistically it is a truth that I have painfully few options, so I am coming to accept that reality in my life. I now concentrate on my female friendships, grad school, and my work.
I also have suffered spiritually. There are times when I have had wonderful, affirming experiences. But depression for me is numbness, and the Spirit has a hard time getting through if you are closed off from feeling. I struggle to want to read my scriptures, say my prayers, or go to the temple, which are probably the most important things I could doing to get out of this. The truth is, though, I don't want to feel. Feeling hurts. Numb is better. Also, those things take work, and I am just so tired. If I actually am doing those things, invariably a time will hit where I'm not doing those things and I feel absolutely worthless in my failure. It is hard to start trying again when you feel worthless. It's also hard to hear people talk about how much comfort and help they've received doing these things when I feel like every time I try I hear and feel absolutely nothing. That brings me back to feeling worthless all over again. To add to that, I teach young women in my church or give talks and stand there feeling like a hypocrite the entire time. Added worthlessness.
The funny thing is, until a couple of weeks ago I thought I was over my depression. It wasn't until a talk at Time Out for Women and a connection to a recent event that I realized I absolutely am still knee-deep in it. In the talk, the speaker mentioned how hard it is to feel the Spirit when depressed. A couple of weeks before that, I had gone to the temple with family names for the first time every. Everyone who has ever talked about taking family names has testified of how much more powerful it is to do work for your own progenitors. I knew I needed that Spirit, so I was really looking forward to it. So I went, I did it, and I felt...nothing. Absolutely nothing. It is hard to express how absolutely and irredeemably broken that has made me feel. And the temple of all places is not supposed to do that! Which then furthers the cycle of feeling worthless. It. Just. Doesn't. Stop. So when I heard that talk, even though it was nothing new to me, it really hit.
So here I am. Depressed. Self-medicating with busyness. Never stop. Take on more, always. Never allow silence EVER. It's the only way to keep self-destructive thoughts at bay, and if I fail at that they will take hold and NEVER let go. This is how I am living my life right now, and I didn't even realize I was doing it until recently. I also don't know how to stop, so I just keep plugging away and hope things will get better. Someday.
Despite all of this, I truly do want to be more positive. But I bare my soul and go down the negative path for a bit in an effort to let others know they are not alone. I believe the best way to get through this refiner's fire is through the love, support, and friendship of others. And I don't mean the superficial friendship we often have at church where we have five minute at most to say hello and so when asked how we're doing, all we say is, "Good. How about you?" That is not friendship. I also do not believe that is the Lord's way. We need connections. Deep connections. The way to do that is to make yourself vulnerable, talk about what is actually in your heart, and truly get to know each other.
I have always been a go, go, go kind of person, and my divorce didn't help that. I NEEDED to stay busy all the time. Otherwise, the thoughts would creep in. Once that started, it was a downward spiral every time. So I didn't let it. Stay busy. Never slow down. Multitask at all times. Never rest. Now I'm in a better place, but I still don't stop. Ever. Today I came as close as I ever do, though. I finished a fun book. I played a favorite game. I watched a Hallmark movie and WAY too many episodes of The Great British Baking Show. I also went to the post office, got an oil change, repacked some boxes for my campus move, and cooked a turkey. So...progress. Working on blance. Finding time to breathe.
Thanks to Spring Break, a miracle has occurred: I am finished with all grad school work for the week--on Tuesday!
(I had to choose the panda. Like every other Amanda, I grew up with the nickname Amanda Panda. So a panda doing a happy dance just seemed appropriate.)
I am inordinately proud of myself today. I am extremely non-confrontational. I am a people pleaser and just want everyone to be happy--often at my expense. I have had an issue in my personal life that has actually been causing me to lose sleep. Even worse, it has caused bad feelings towards someone I like quite a bit. Rather than addressing issues head-on, I've been letting them fester. So today enough was enough. I decided to use this issue as a growth opportunity and finally had that hard conversation. And it turns out, it wasn't so hard after all! The problem is resolved, at least for now, and I know that if something comes up in the future it is better to address it with clarity. As my friend told me going into this, "clarity is kindness."
Today was a lazy day. Spring Break officially starts tomorrow, and while I have quite the to do list ahead of me, I took the time to just rest for a bit. I went to church, which I enjoyed more than I can remember for a long time, and then I came home with my whole afternoon/evening ahead of me with nothing critically important to do. I have decided that there is nothing quite as indulgent as an afternoon nap. Mine was longer than I had intended, and I probably thoroughly messed up my sleep schedule and will have to pay that piper, but it felt SO GOOD! Then I played a game on my iPad for a little bit and actually read a book for fun. I wasn't sure if I'd remember how to read for fun! Overall a nice "recharge" day for the busy week ahead of me.
As I read down the list of blog titles for the past week, I realized I was rather focused on tears. Funny that I didn't notice it while writing, and in my defense, one of those posts did include happy tears as well. Still--enough of that. I got through my last day, and now I'm feeling ready to take on the challenges ahead of me with hope and optimism. And find other things to write about. So with that in mind...
I just finished watching the last season The Great British Baking Show on Netflix. Every time I watch a season, I feel like I should start saying words like "chuffed" and "crack on." Although, when I was talking about this at work and said chuffed, it just didn't sound right. One definitely needs the accent, I think. This also brings up an essential question for my life: Now that I've gone through all the seasons, what do I do next??? I'm leaning towards rewatching. :)
I went searching for a video of season 9 Ruby saying "crack on," just because I loved it so much. Then I found this instead. It's two of my favorite worlds colliding, and I just had to share. And so I present to you: Studio C Bake Off!
It's hard sometimes to know if you made the right decision or not. As I prepare to move to a new campus and take on new students in March of all times, questioning is probably inevitable. I have cried for almost three days straight now. I'm not even sure why. I kept telling people at school today that I'm carrying on like someone I love has died. Just ridiculous! But I think when your world is turned upside in the span of 3 days, there just isn't enough processing time. Thankfully, we are going into Spring Break, and I will get that much-needed time. And with my last day behind me, I'm already gearing up mentally to face the considerable challenges ahead of me and just rock it. So, the classroom pack up has begun, and it is time to move forward.
This week has been one of the heaviest I've faced in a very, very long time. It hasn't been all bad, but it has been emotional.
On Monday I was approached by my Deaf Ed admin asking if I would be willing to fill a vacancy on our other elementary campus. We are desperately understaffed at the moment, and we had yet another teacher have to leave through no fault of hers. Life has twists and turns, and hers took a turn. Even though it would take me away from my current students, these students probably needed me more. At the end of the day, it was my decision to make, but I only had until Wednesday to make it. The pros and cons list was frustratingly equal with no obvious answer.
Tuesday I stayed home because...grad school. As hard as I tried, I fell behind. I am almost never absent, and to do what needed to be done I knew I would need the whole day. And it did. I worked, and I thought about what to do.
Wednesday I was about to ready to leave when my dog jumped off the bed and started yelping in pain. Last year she had a a back issue bad enough that I thought I might be saying goodbye. She was put on pain meds and healed. Since she was doing so much better, I decided against expensive testing. Those issues came back this week, although it wasn't quite as bad as last time, thankfully. This time I did have x-rays done. We know what's wrong. To cure it would require surgery, but the pain can be managed through medicine and she can have a great life that way. So that's what I'm doing. I'm a teacher...back surgery for a dog just isn't in my budget!
Taking care of the dog did take my Wednesday morning, so as I drove to work around noon, I was thinking about praying about my decision. On the way to work I decided I would make the move. It is going to be hard in so many ways, but I decided it was the best and right thing to do. But it was with a very heavy heart, and I was a wreck the rest of the day. I love my students as if they were own, and the thought of leaving them was heart-wrenching.
Today (Thursday) I started by doing a video for my grad school class. I had to pull them during their large group time, which I hated, but I didn't have an option. The lesson plan was written over 6 weeks time and submitted in parts multiple times. It was written with this group in mind and approved for video. It is due next week, but next week is our Spring Break. On top of that, I made plans to go to my new school to observe what they currently do to try to make the transition as smooth as possible. I will say, with everything going on, it was not my best teaching moment. Hopefully it wasn't my worst, and I did good enough to get by. I was lucky to not start crying during the video as I had been all morning.
After doing the video, I told them that I would no longer be their teacher after Spring Break. The moment I started speaking, I choked up. They were so confused! Even after I explained it, they were confused and asked me when I was coming back. I have been absent so much this week that they thought it was just another absence. So I told them I wasn't, but that I would be going to their graduation. Then they asked if I would be at the 5th grade party. I had to tell them no, although I assured them it wouldn't matter because they aren't even going to be paying attention to the teachers because they will be having too much fun.
Then I left yet again to go observe my new students. They have challenges, and I needed to see what was being done now to make the transition as smooth as possible. I continued the crying trend. I've always been a crier, but this has been extreme even for me. It has just been too much. On top of all of that, I am also having some issues with a more personal matter that have been weighing on me. It has just been too much. But I know it's just a moment, and it will pass. I will settle in, and I will love my students just as much as the ones I have now. But for this moment, I cry.
Have you ever had so much going on that your brain just collapses under the weight of all the thoughts and you have none left? That is how I feel tonight. I have changes at work, a hurt dog, grad school (always grad school!), and some personal issues that require me to do something I do not like to do--confront. And now the clock is staring me down, telling me I simply must go to bed in 30 minutes. Sitting down to write in this condition is borderline impossible. More will be coming. There is much to explain. But for now...I am empty.
I almost forgot my blog post today. It is 8:57 pm, and my goal was to be in bed by 9:00. Yikes! Out of necessity, this will be a shorter one.
Tomorrow I have a final project due for one of my grad school classes. This has led me to an essential question: Why do these projects have SO MANY PARTS?!? This program is designed for those who want to be literacy coaches or, in my case, just want to become better reading and writing teachers. So why do they assign us projects that are not real-world realistic? This particular assignment has taken me probably 10 hours to complete. In a nutshell, it is a handout/book talk video about a content area book that can be used in the classroom. For another class, I did a lesson plan that took me five hours to write. FIVE HOURS!!! WHY?!? How is this going to be help in my job now or in possible future positions? It's insanity, I tell you, Insanity! Why did I choose to pay for torture?!? Just a semester-and-a-half to go...
I love the wider reach that Slice of Life is giving me. When I "rebooted" my blog a couple of years ago, I had hoped it would be something that people could find, read, relate to, and enjoy. Maybe this challenge is that dream coming to fruition. Due to the new readers that are finding their way here, old friends, please forgive me as I lay down some background knowledge that is needed before getting to my point.
I teach Deaf Education. I am currently assigned to upper elementary, and I love it. Honestly, that's an understatement. It's my passion. It gave (and continues to give) meaning to my life when everything I held most dear was destroyed. I taught General Education for five years, and I struggled. I walked away from teaching convinced I would never return. Little did I know that not only would I go back, I would wake up eager to go to work every day. Okay, most days. I do get tired by the end of the week! I also didn't know that I would become an absolute teaching nerd. I soak in all things Professional Development and seek to improve myself at all times. What a path my life has taken!
This job is not without significant challenges, though. The one that drives everything else is the fact that most of our students do not have parents that know sign. One of the basic principles of teaching English learners is that you use their first language to build a bridge to their second. Our students need to learn English, but they do not have even a first language. They are semilingual.
The impacts of this are far reaching, and if I listed them all I would be writing all night. And I was supposed to be in bed 40 minute ago. Suffice it to say that as a Deaf Ed teacher, you are often faced with difficult decisions that reach far beyond the curriculum. For example, with this utterly insane Momo business and other dangerous YouTube influences disguised as children's fare, you have to face the question of, "What do I talk to my students about because their parents can't?" Instructions for suicide. Porn embedded in "Paw Patrol." It's a scary digital world, and how do you guide our most innocent through that when it really should be in the parents' purview? What is appropriate in an elementary school setting? How much do they need to know? These are students who spend their hours outside of school in front of a screen due to language barriers. How do you protect them without scaring them? It is a difficult road to walk.
This massive responsibility is not all dark and depressing, though. Today held a bright spot. I have students more advanced than many we see, and they are beginning to encounter English words and phrases that do not have signs. They must use other ASL grammatical constructs to convey the meaning of these words and phrases. This where not having a first language becomes really problematic. But it can also be very fun to open the door to their linguistic and cultural birthright. I wish I had a Deaf adult who could do this part for me, as it is their language and my students need those role models. But in the absence of that, I get to take just five or ten minutes a day to start teaching them about their language. It truly is a joy to open the world to them. Sometimes, it is important to take the long view and realize teaching is not only about curriculum.
I'm sorry I haven't written. It is probably the fifty millionth time I've said. I'm not sure how many times I can beg forgiveness for the same sin and have it granted. It's not you. It's me. You wouldn't know it, but I love writing it. Truly, I do. The problem is, you never make it to the top of the priority list. And it is SUCH a long list! Grad school is just killing me. I know so many teachers who have done it and done it with kids. I'm not sure how. I want kids. I plan to adopt kids once this is over. But I am grateful I don't have kids while doing grad school. I might not have survived!
All that being said, I've decided to add something new to my mile-high plate: The Slice of Life Challenge. If a teacher wants to be a skilled teacher of writing, he/she should write along with the students. To this end, this challenge was created. For the next month, I will be writing every day. Can you believe it? Every day! Hopefully this will be the start of some better blogging habits. And so I say sorry once again, but this time I have made a commitment to do better. A commitment that could involve a prize (if I'm so lucky), which at least will keep me focused. Which is always a good thing. So we'll be seeing a lot of each other this month and hopefully onward!
