Education Interrupted

January 31, 2007

He didn’t particularly stand out in our class, not physically, not intellectually, and not even emotionally — which is pretty telling as his father had passed away shortly before.  He was just a very even kid, although a little more somber than most.  He had the capability of performing better, but chose to be average.  He wasn’t the boy who Jeckyll and Hyded his way through life because his grandparents couldn’t agree on whether he should be medicated.  He wasn’t the boy who, at age 12, was off the streets and trying to clean up.  He wasn’t struggling with cognitive difficiencies.  He wasn’t fighting physical impediments.  He was fighting, silently, with bereavement.  He was seeing the school counsellor, but no one could have guessed what was coming.

It was April when everything blew up.  We had gone through military move-ins and move-outs.  We had had a long-term sub at Christmas as my cooperating teacher had to babysit her suicidal husband.  We had gone on a five-day camp.  It was the last day before spring break and tensions were high.  Us student teachers technically needed another week after spring break but the teacher’s union was threatening to strike.  We didn’t know if we’d see our beloved students and teachers again, we didn’t know if we should say our goodbyes.  As my fellow student teacher and I arrived at school for our maybe-maybe-not last day the police car in front of the office signaled to me immediately that this was a bigger day than I had imagined.

The story came out quickly.  Toward the back of the room, sitting with the other students who didn’t require 1:1 supervision, he had been making comments for months.  At first they were ignored and passed off as idle, but over time one girl, in particular, took them to heart and finally told her father.  In our post-Columbine world, her father, a professional Marine pilot, went immediately to the forces that be.  I’ll never know if he actually did bring a gun to school that day, but that’s a moot point in a zero-tolerance environment.

It wasn’t the first time we saw HPD on campus, nor would it be the last time I saw police.  It was, however, the first time one of my students was taken away in handcuffs.  Sadly, it wasn’t the last.


To My Unborn Child

January 30, 2007

Since the moment of your conception, your existance has been secondary to the chaos that is our life.  I’m very sorry.  We really love you and are very excited to see you.  You have already blessed and enriched our lives in a time I wouldn’t have imaged a baby to do so.  I know you will continue to be a blessing in our family.

I’m sorry that I haven’t been the mother for you that I had for your brother.  I haven’t been as rested or relaxed, I haven’t been as good at following that diet or getting my exercise.  I have only nine more weeks before you’re here.  I know it won’t make up for the previous weeks and months of neglect, but I commit myself to you right now.

This time is about being ready for you.  I will do it right.  I love you.

Testing the Waters

January 29, 2007

I haven’t made any rash decisions, but I’m checking things out on the other side of the fence. I’ll let you know when my plans firm up. In the meantime I’m maintaining two blogs. In addition to this blog you can read my wordpress thoughts here.

Perfection, Thou Art My Husband

January 29, 2007

It isn’t enough, all the virtues I saw in him when we were young and I fell in love.  The beauty of true love is that as time goes on it deepens, and that the more facets we discover, the more there is to love.  I knew he’d be good with children, but I didn’t know there was this level of understanding available in a man.

It was just plain cute when he’d sing to my growing belly before the fetus had ears, but it proved functional.  At birth, when Little Red set out his first wail, my husband said, “it’s okay, Little Guy, Daddy’s here.”  Little Red stopped crying instantly, much to the disapproval of the nurses who scolded my husband.  The bond was formed.

As a small infant, Little Red was regailed with a new made-up song every night by his father.  The tunes always varied, as did the lyrics, but the meaning was the same.  Once there was a little boy whose father loved him very much

This evening when I got out of the shower, I noticed that all the lights were off and my husband was in Little Red’s room.  Little Red had been having a hard time winding down and going to sleep, so there sat my husband, in the dark, beside his bed, making up bedtime stories.  Once there was a little boy who was having a hard time sleeping.  When his Daddy was a little boy, sometimes he had a hard time sleeping, too, so he made up stories until he went to sleep.

 With Number Two on the way, I can’t even understand how my husband’s capacity to be a wonderful father will grow, nor do I understand how my love and admiration of him will grow.  I only know that it will.  In what has been an otherwise gloomy new year, it is such a beautiful piece of hope, and I am so grateful for him.  This will be a good year, and it will be thus because of him alone.

Giving it a Flying Chance

January 29, 2007

I still don’t know.  I’m not in love with WordPress like everyone else.  I’m not in love with New Blogger like everyone at google (but I still love google’s gmail and picasa.)  I guess I just didn’t realize how much I loved Old Blogger.

 Or it could just be that I don’t love change.  Normally I like the adventure of something new, but this timing is just so poor and it just makes me annoyed.  I’m mad at the big bad corporation that’s making arbitrary decisions and forcing us to comply.

Clearly I still have Earthlink issues. 

But you don’t have to be much of a psychoanalyst to figure that one out.  We finally got our service started on January 9th.  Yesterday morning I found a $97 charge from Earthlink on our Discover card, posted January 12th.  Annoyed much?  Oh why yes I was.  In fact, I was so near livid that I decided to calm down by reading some blogs.

I had somehow convinced myself that I was special and that I would be able to skip the blogger force-over because I had been such a loyal blogger for so long.  Yesterday morning I signed into blogger and I ominously knew, as it processed my password, that today was the day.  Of course it was.  I had already had several pieces of bad cyber news that morning, it was a fitting addition to my day.

I just want one boring month.

I just want one boring week.

I’d be happy with one boring day (not because I put off all those calls, but because they were already taken care of.)

In the meantime, I’m trying not to get emotional over all these new little things.  I’m testing the waters over here.  I’m trying out New Blogger. 

And I’m trying to find time to meditate. 

Backup or New Favourite

January 28, 2007

I’m not sure.

I’ve been listening so much to everyone’s discontent with the new blogger than instead of making up my own mind I’m making up a back-up.  This way, if I hate blogger, I’ve already imported (or so I’m told I’m able to do.) 

 I hate bandwagons, and I’m tempted to stay with Blogger just to NOT join the crowd.  But if this really is better . . .

 Like I said, I’m still not sure.  But I’m here.  For now.

 EDIT:  Blast!  I closed out my blogger page and lost my ONE chance to skip moving to the new blogger.  No importing for me, no second chances.

My Heartbreak

January 28, 2007

Friday night my husband went upstairs at about 11:30 to find Little Red huddled in the corner just outside of his bedroom. He was obviously frightened, and in the dark didn’t recognize his Daddy. As Paul approached him to pick him up he fearfully said, “nono!”

Paul soothingly said, “It’s okay, it’s Daddy. Can I pick you up?”

Little Red obliged, and proceeded to tell Paul that he had had a bad dream.

He’s had nightmares since he was born. I wish I could do something.