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Well, after 3 ½ years of evening and weekend classes, I am finally finished with school. Friday was my last day student teaching in room 3-P. Now, as soon as I can find a job, I can finally call myself a teacher. (As one of my kids wrote in a farewell letter, "Mrs. H. I hope you get a job as a real teacher someday.")
I am surprised I didn’t cry on Friday when I opened my gifts from the kids. I got very emotional for a minute and then talked myself down, thinking that I didn’t want them to see me cry because I didn’t want to upset them too. But it was a bittersweet moment. I was so happy to finally be finished but was also so sorry to have to let them all go. I told them they were one of the best groups of kids I had ever been lucky enough to work with and that’s the truth – they are amazing.
It’s been a strange week. This is a huge accomplishment for me…and for my family. I feel like I am finally in a position where we might finally be able to get our sh*t together. 4 years ago when I finished college, my mom had to persuade me to have a graduation party. I didn’t feel much like celebrating. Yes, it was a big accomplishment since I had left school after Owen and I got married. But I knew I wasn’t finished - it was only a short-term victory. It didn’t seem worthy a big celebration. I knew I wouldn’t yet be able to begin my career and so it didn’t seem like much of a big deal.
Now I am ready. After 10 years of “post-secondary” education, I have finally finished and am ready to begin my career. I feel ready. I know I am well prepared. And I can honestly say that my “taking the long route” has better prepared me to be a good teacher. But this too has been a bittersweet ending. Finally, I feel that I have made a tremendous accomplishment. I have finished…this is huge. I am now able to have a real career. This means big things…HUGE things…for Sam and Owen and I…and yet I feel unable to celebrate it because…
And all that remains is for me to get a job and this is the very difficult part. The market for teachers in the state of
Despite almost daily searches for available positions, I have thus far found exactly zero positions for which I am eligible in this state. Opportunities in other states abound. In fact, I am flying to
But let me make one thing clear: I don’t want to leave. I lived in
The mere possibility of leaving home has already caused me more sleepless nights than I can count. I cannot communicate how much I hate the thought of taking Sam so far away from his grandparents and the rest of my family. I was so close to my grandparents…and I have always wanted that amazing relationship for him. He adores his grandparents. The thought of taking that away from him and from them breaks my heart. I tell myself that it will only be for a couple of years until the MI economy improves or until I have some experience under my belt and am more employable here. I could work on additional certifications so that I can find a job here and we can come back home. But still, leaving is leaving…for one year or 10…or whatever…and the thought of it makes me sick.
And so I don’t much feel like celebrating…even though I had just made one of the biggest accomplishments of my life.
After significant absence I have returned.
I’m hoping you’re all still lurking out there or that you might have begun to use Google reader and so you’re picking up the new post that way. Or you’re some poor loser who hit the Blogger next button and here you are smacked upside the head with this poorly updated P.O.S.
In any case, dear reader, I’m glad you’re still here!
Here are some updates about us:
I attended a job fair at CMU a few weeks ago and have gotten several job offers, some of which we are considering and some we are not. Our options include: Hoke County, NC; Baltimore, MD; Ft. Lauderdale, FL;
I have gotten a summer job as the lead teacher for the school-age day cam where Sam goes to daycare. This means that the Harrington family will be doing our part to keep Al Gore from making any more movies (that was a joke – I’ve never seen his movie) by all riding to work/school together every day. Hooray!
Sam is walking. Alternately, Sam is falling. A lot. Yesterday I thought he might take out our sliding glass door. Luckily, it’s still tougher than his head. Owen has taken to calling him “the walking bruise” while I remain attached to “booger face” as he has recently recovered from his first sinus infection brought on, no doubt, by his recently diagnosed allergies. (Could you hear me sigh just then?)
I am in my last week of student teaching and am having major separation anxiety about leaving my kids. Yes, they are “my kids” now. I find I am listless and without direction most evenings, having completely forgotten what life is like with no papers to grade. I am also fairly well dying to know what grade I will be teaching in the fall so I can start planning my year and gathering materials.
Well…I know that’s not much of an entry, but it’s something, right? I’m planning to post a few pictures of Sam here in the next day or so.
I’ve been feeling badly about neglecting what little readership I have, and so I have decided to make an attempt to play a little catch-up with everybody.
School keeps me insanely busy. I am there by 7:30 every morning, and don’t usually get home until sometime between 6 and 8. I try to get home before Sam goes to bed whenever I can but Owen has been a champ about bringing him in for little visits.
The class I’m with is incredibly diverse. There are very few average kids. We have some very, very high kids, and some very, very low kids. The issues I had to deal with this week included: bullying, a 3200 Abuse/Neglect report to Child Protective Services, an abused child who is now wetting his pants regularly (this is NOT the 3200 kid), a child who will be retained next fall, a child with a 150 IQ and enough social problems to drown a fish, and all the “regular” gunk associated with parent/teacher conferences. I am physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted and it is well earned. Proof: my adviser has told me, “Sarah…I pray for you every night…you’ll be okay.” All that said, I absolutely love teaching and am very excited at the prospect of having my own classroom next fall.
For those of you who don’t know as much about Sam as me, his first birthday is next month. I can not believe how quickly the year has flown by. I see little newborns now and I can hardly remember what it was like when he was that little. I’m looking forward to having another baby at some point because I think I can do better this next time around. Looking back, I see how hard it was for me those first few weeks and how much I struggled. People who say you can never be ready are right.
Speaking of birthdays, if you know me (and aren’t just a stranger from the internet who was so unfortunate as to have been mistakenly directed to me) and are interested in coming to Sam’s first birthday party on April 7, please give me a call. If you know me, you know how to get ahold of me.
Sam is growing like a weed. He’s very tall and lean and, because of that, looks a lot older than he is. He does not have the chubby baby face. He stood for the first time this week and the only reason I know is because Owen decided it was better to tell me and let me cry because I missed it than to not tell me at all. And, I didn’t cry, actually/amazingly, I was just bummed I missed it.
Owen left his job with TLC to work at Sam’s daycare. He took a bit of a pay cut, but it slowly making up the difference with freelance technology work. Also, I get paid to sub every now and then.
All in all, life is good here in the northland. I’m very excited about our upcoming move, and only wish I knew where it would be too. I am optimistic about getting a teaching job and am willing to work at any school in order to do it. I told my mom this weekend how exciting it is to be on the cusp of an actual career as opposed to working in a job where I know I have no future. My future is finally here…
So…worst blogger in the world…I know.
BUT – I have a good excuse. Here’s what’s been going on:
On February 8, I developed major abdominal pain. I called the surgeon who operated on me in October to make sure that it wasn’t some kind of a complication from that surgery and, they thought it might be so they told me to come into the office. BUT – it’s a 1 ½ hour drive down there and by the time I would get there they would be closed. So they told me to go into the ER and have the on-call doc for their office paged.
Long story short: I was hospitalized with gallstones. I had a procedure called an ERCP to have two stones removed from my common bile duct – they were causing blockage and the pain and nausea. Basically, they knocked me out, put a scope down my throat and then used electrical current to cut a small hole in the bile duct to let the stones out. They also told me that I would need to have my gallbladder removed.
Flash forward to yesterday when I was taken back for surgery at 11 a.m. to have the gallbladder removed. It’s outpatient surgery, so I’m home again but I’ll be off for the next week recovering. Because I’m allergic to steri-strips, they GLUED me shut!
Also, I have a prescription for some pretty good pain killers which, surprisingly, I don’t need nearly as much for my abdomen as I do for my shoulders. According to Owen, they pumped me full of about 2 liters of CO2 for the laparoscopy. A lot of this gets absorbed into the body tissues and it takes a couple of days for it to work its way out. In the meantime, it migrates to the highest point in your body, which is fine when you’re lying down, but when you sit up, it travels into your shoulders and it very painful. And, wouldn’t you know it, sitting up is the best way to get rid of it. So you just have to kind of work through the pain with deep breaths, which also helps get rid of it.
So that’s my excuse/story. I could have gotten a note from the doctor excusing me, but you’re not the boss of me…
This past weekend my mom and my sister and I went to see Dremagirls because it finally opened here. Let me begin by saying that I LOVE musicals and that I have a discerning enough sensibility to understand the difference between a musical and a rock opera (or, in this case, a Motown opera). I was extremely disappointed in the movie.
The plot was ludicrously predictable, the music was over the top, the “musical” moments were ridiculously sentimental and the movie’s story progressed in irritating fits and starts – some scenes took eons to end and then transition-free jumps ten years forward without many visual cues. I think the writers and directors would have been better off committing to doing an actual Supremes biopic (with real Supremes music!) instead of pussyfooting around with this bastardization.
I understand that this is actually a screen adaptation of a Broadway musical; however, it did not translate well to film. Its momentary forays into the genre of rock opera were tentative and sporadic – not enough to be committed to the style, but enough to make you sit there thinking “What the hell?” as you check your watch every 30 seconds to see how much longer ‘til the movie is over. This film lacked the commitment to the genre to make us believe it as a musical and, as a result, became more soap opera than rock opera, with random and seemingly haphazard outbursts of singing.
Beyonce’s performance was lamely milquetoast - I can’t stand to see a character so sickly sweet and without any realistic grit, someone with whom the audience could possibly identify. Give us a character we can root for or against, but don’t shine the spotlight on such a lame wallflower.
As I see it, there were only two good things about this movie but, from where I stand, they were good enough to earn some award-season recognition but not enough to make it worth watching the movie. First is Jennifer Hudson’s performance. Though I’m not a fan of raving vocals that climb up and down three sets of scales at a riff (or whatever the hell you call it), her vocals were soulful and her performance was excellent. I love her, and I hope we see more of her. The second great thing was the makeup and costuming, which was absolutely fantastic. It was, perhaps, the most enjoyable aspect of the movie, flashy and dazzling at every turn. I even loved the wigs and jewelry, and when do I ever notice that stuff?
All in all, it gets two big thumbs down from me. If you want to see Jennifer Hudson, try YouTube or something. And if you want to see shots of the costumes, try IMDB or Google. Don’t waste your time going to the theatre only to spend the evening waiting for the movie to just be over. Save your money.
Why is it that every time I shop for a condolence card, I cry? Even if I’ve never event met the person... Sometimes I wonder if I need stronger meds.
Sam can’t take swimming lessons this month as I had planned because he has to see the Ear, Nose and Throat doctor on the 19th about the possibility of having tubes put in his ears. I’m so bummed. Not that I was really enjoying the idea of parading around in my swimsuit once a week, but still…
It’s pretty much time to start taking my personal things home from work so that I don’t have to bring in a U-Haul on my last day. I can hardly believe that my last day is just a little more than a week away. I’ve been waiting for this for so long, but I’m still a little sad.
You should have to have a license to use commas.
I don’t think it’s possible to have too much lotion or too many different kinds of it. I also think that there’s no such thing as too much nail polish.
Sam will be 9 months old tomorrow. I cannot believe how quickly the time has flown by. I suggested to Owen that we should have some cake to celebrate Sam’s 9 month birthday. He suggested I should stop looking for excuses to have cake.
In related news, Tae Bo Fat Blasting Cardio completely and totally kicks my ass. And I don’t mean it as though the DVD kicks ass. I mean that I am so bad at it that I don’t want anybody, even Sam, to watch while I pathetically attempt to keep up with it. Incidentally, Sam thinks aerobics videos are hilarious and was having quite a good time watching and laughing last night. I am POSITIVE he wasn’t laughing at me…
Pursuit of Happyness was a fantastic movie. It was so touching that it made me cry several times and I think just about everybody should watch it. Will Smith is an amazing actor and his son was also very good. I can’t ever imagine sleeping in a subway bathroom with my child…that was one of the instances that made me cry.
I would really like to watch Dreamgirls, as well, but the stupid cinema here seems to be disinterested in showing it. Leave it to our lame-ass theatre to skip out on the movie that has inspired so much Oscar buzz.
Let me begin this story by saying that for a couple of months, now, I have been extremely stressed. The prospect of quitting my good-paying job to chase after what has eventually seemed to become some sort of a pipe dream in my imagination (student teaching, or, just teaching), has left me laying awake for hours on end at night. Like most young people, we are not without our share of debt, mostly college loans. Most of the time, and barring any unforeseen incidents, we are able to make ends meet…just barely. The idea of quitting my job, even with the prospect of a better future, is none the less nerve-wracking.
And it is mainly for this reason that, just before Christmas, my doctor gave me a prescription to help me sleep at night. It also happens that another doctor gave me a prescription for Amoxicillin that caused one of the worse allergic reactions I’ve ever had to deal with. For two weeks my hands and feet were both swollen with a phenomenally itchy rash and the only way I could sleep at night, despite the sleep aid given me by my regular doctor, has been to take Benadryl. Without taking both of them, sleep was impossible.
So you may imagine that I have been sleeping REALLY HARD at night, which is true. I have also been waking and moving through the days like a zombie. Owen, angel that he is, has taken care of Sam most nights so that I can sleep. But I still wake up as though I’ve been on a 3-day bender – absolutely exhausted.
This is all led up to the fact that I became an unwitting embezzler this week. On Monday night I chose not to take either pill in an effort to try to begin to pull my weight at night with Sam again and, as a result, I got less than 4 hours of sleep. Tuesday afternoon, in a fog of exhaustion, I put the wrong number on the office bank deposit of approximately $3,000. Of course, I didn’t find that out until today, when the bank finally posted the scan of the deposit slip to MY online banking site.
The money had mysteriously appeared in our account a couple of days ago. But until the deposit clears, all it says is “Pending” and you can’t get any more information about it. We called the bank, insisting that it was a mistake as there was no way we could imagine that we should be getting that much money in our account. They told us to wait and see what came through in the scan. Imagine my horror when I opened the link only to discover my office savings deposit slip.
It bears mentioning that just last week an employee was fired for allegedly stealing money out of purses and petty cash. Though no hard evidence was found to my knowledge, and she was my friend who I thought very highly of, she was fired on suspicion alone as “We can do whatever we want – we’re an at-will employer.” Additionally, when my boss was in an irritable mood yesterday and claimed, “I’m in the mood to fire somebody,” she wasn’t joking. I was informed that I would be firing the cleaning lady today with no notice as well, because our contract with her stipulates that we may do so at our discretion.
And so that is the second part of my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. I was made to fire a woman who cleans for $65 per week, and who needs the money so badly that she comes in to the office in a panic on Monday if her check doesn’t get there by Saturday. She cried in my office and I blankly apologized for firing her. She asked me why and I scrambled for answers. “They’re just not satisfied.” I felt terrible. I felt like I let her down. And yet, I was told, “If she needed the money so badly, she should have done a better job cleaning.”
If it weren’t for the fact that I have to meet and do paperwork with the new cleaning lady this afternoon, I think I might go home sick for the rest of the day. My head is pounding and my anxiety has blossomed into a vague, bland numbness. All that remains is my exhaustion and the desire to spend the rest of the day in bed reading or watching TV.
Incidentally, I called the VP of the bank as soon as I discovered what had happened with the deposit and had him transfer the money back to the agency account right away. In a move that made me feel filthy and criminal, he called the office to be sure the accountant knew what had happened. She already knew because, as my friend, I had told her in a panic the moment I realized it had happened. She told me I still had to tell my boss about it. Fortunately, by the time my boss got in, the error had been fixed.
There is a part of me who wishes she had fired me so I could go home too. And a slightly bigger part of me who wishes she had at least yelled at me so that I might lose my temper and yell back at her in my own defense, and in defense of my friend who I feel was very unfairly fired.
Where I work, I often am told things over the phone that make my blood run cold. Sometimes I hear about things that I used to think only happened in the movies or in big cities. But on rare occasion, I hear something that kind of makes me chuckle. Here is just such an instance from one of today’s telephone calls:
Me: “Okay…so now I need to you to give me a little information about why you need counseling. It helps our clinical staff determine who would be best suited to treat you.”
Anonymous: “Okay. Well…um…the court says I have to get counseling because...um...my husband? Well...he’s an alcoholic and…um…he fell off the wagon…and he got a D.U.I. And...um...when the police came to arrest him? They found some marijuana in the house. And he told them it was mine…because it was.”