The world looks brighter from behind a smile.

Admittedly, I am terribly awkward in emotional situations and never know the right things to say or do.  This is why I either eat or write my feelings and why I am currently wiping chocolate chip cookie grease from my hands in order to try to think of the right words to write words to capture something important.  I want to somehow do justice to my Grandma Ginny.  The good news is that when you are a true original and classic like Ginny, the stories really write themselves. There are so many things that are quintessential Grandma Ginny that the only trouble is knowing where to start.  Many of my earliest and many of my fondest memories of her involve holidays.  She prided herself on taking each of her grandchildren out for a date on their birthdays.  I was treated to years and years of these, with dinners at Ponderosa (one of her favorites) or Finley's (one of my favorites) followed by a trip to a toy store to pick out whatever my heart desired.  I r...

One of the best pieces of teaching advice I've ever gotten was to create a "worthwhile file".  Mine is actually a file folder, and it's full of reminders of why I love my job.  There are notes, cards, and pictures from students, parents, and other teachers that make me smile and feel a few inches taller when I read them.  Don't tell anyone, but I've also kept some carbon copies of detentions past students have gotten (we used to get copies any time one of our Ac Lab students was written up by someone) that make me giggle.  Maybe giggle is an understatement.  Anyway, I look through it from time to time for a boost, but its real purpose is for days like today as a reminder of why it's worth it to work through the tough days.  Today was one of those tough days. I don't ever want to publicly complain about my job.  I've said it before, and I'll say it again-- being a teacher is an honor and a privilege, and I feel blessed every day that I get to ...

The warm-up today for my students was to reflect on and write about an MLK quote I had on the board.  I had also written "Happy (belated) MLK Day!" because this was our first day back since Monday.  A student raised his hand and asked, "What's milk day?"  I played along with the joke and made some kind of remark about how we should all bring in a quarter for our little cartons of milk, and we could have snack time, and... ... and then I realized that he wasn't joking.  Like, not at all.  Le sigh.  Really?  I mean, really?  Milk Day?   To be fair, he also thinks that Americans speak American and Canadians speak Canadian, so his lack of common sense is not limited to history.  He's equal opportunity in these types of questions, and the rest of us do the best we can to handle answering them with humor and grace... and maybe a dash or two of sarcasm. When someone else asked later in the day why we didn't celebrate MLK Day duri...

When we lived in Seattle, we paid top dollar to be able to watch the sun rise over Lake Union from our tiny one bedroom apartment.  It really was breathtakingly beautiful and one of those kinds of views you don't take for granted, even seeing it day after day. It turns out that the best things in life are free, though.  One of my favorite things in life is the view I now get of some tiny little butt cheeks sprinting from the nursery to the tub when it's bath time. "My blessings are in front of me, it's not about the land I'll never beat the view from my front porch looking in I see what beautiful is about When I'm looking in, not when I'm looking out 'Cause anywhere I'll ever go and everywhere I've been Nothing takes my breath away like my front porch looking in." Lonestar From the Seattle sunrises to the St. Louis moons, we have been so richly blessed. Thank you, baby butt cheeks, you made my day.

I should be excited that I had a Snow Day today instead of having to go back from break.  The truth is that I have four hours worth of professional development to facilitate tomorrow and a penchant for Lifetime movies when I'm at home sitting on the couch, so I ended up going into work for a few hours anyway. When I got home, I decided that the driveway wasn't going to shovel itself.  I also thought Tom would be pleasantly surprised if I took care of it, and he might even make me some hot chocolate with little marshmallows as a reward (he did, by the way, after I asked him nicely). I made the mistake of not wearing any head covering, as my hair was piled up in a rushed hot mess from this morning.  As I was nearing the end of the driveway and the conclusion that my ears would freeze off and I would have to live without them, my neighbor from across the road came out.  He hollered a hello, and I quickly greeted him with a frozen smile.  He pulled up to our dri...

This is so weird. I'm sitting on the couch.  It's dusk.  The room is lit only by the multi-colored lights of our tacky Christmas tree full of memories.  There are toys allllll over the floor.  There's laundry all over the couch. My house is a place where messes happen.  Everywhere.  And I love it. Don't get me wrong.  I don't like be messy, and we really do try to keep a clean house.  However, one of the things I love about my family is that we have really gotten to a place where we are learning to prioritize.  A clean house is important.  Sometimes. See, here's the thing.  My house is a place where messes happen.  It's also a place where joy happens.  All over.  Everywhere.  Mistakes happen.  Then more love.  Dance parties and family dinners and tickle fests happen.   Hugs happen.  Friendship happens.  More love.  Belly laughs happen.  Big things and little things and s...

When I tell people that I teach middle school, they judge me.  Sometimes, they come right out and tell me.  "What?  Really?  Umm, why?"  Other times, it's just a sympathetic look given with you-must-be-crazy eyes.  Who in their right mind would spend their days with, ohhhhh, I can't even say it. Teenagers . Ugh.  Teenagers are what's wrong with the world, right?  They ruin my night out at the movies, they cut me off driving, and they're constantly talking loudly on their cell phones wherever I go.  They only care about video games and being mean to each other and doing inappropriate things, right? She must just not be very bright or must be lacking in some kind of real job skills.  Maybe she's just plain crazy.  Middle school teacher?  Oh, honey. I'm going to let you in on a little secret.  I questioned whether or not I should, but you're not going to believe me anyway, so I figure it's safe.  Teenagers are AW...