I Promised Him That No One Would Ever Eat Him.

Man, I have not posted in a hot minute. Summer wrapped up with yet another Praxis test, I started teaching, and then my graduate classes began. I have several post ideas, mainly concerning teaching and how much I love it, but I decided my first post back should be something a little more light.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Just kidding.

Let me tell you about the State of the Apartment over here at the Anna/Snicks compound. Otherwise entitled "The Great Flea Saga of 2015."

You heard me. Fleas.

Now, this time yesterday I would have never, ever posted anything about fleas. I told my mom that I was just going to tell people Snicks had a "skin issue" because I didn't "want people to think we are dirty and never clean." It took Kathy (and Melissa) a while, but they finally made me realize that fleas are a thing that happens.

Let me start from the beginning.

This past weekend I noticed that Snicks had a little bald spot on the back of his neck. I investigated further and saw that he had this scaly white patch that was flaky. Oh no! So I did what any sane person does, and I Googled his symptoms. I decided that he may have mites since he seemed to have all the symptoms of it. Unfortunately, I had graduate classes both Monday and Tuesday nights (they were located IN HELL, but that's for another day) so I couldn't take him till Wednesday. We go to the Best Vet Ever and they basically let me choose my day and time.

Prior to us finding out what the problem really was.

So, Wednesday rolls around and I pack Snickers up after school and take him to the vet. Our appointment is scheduled for 4 p.m. When we get there, it is standing room only. And, let's face it, Snickers is super cute and somewhat of a novelty, so many people wanted to talk to me. I had spent 14 hours the previous day around people, and I had been around people all day till that point, so I was on people overload, which is a introvert's nightmare. I honestly had to tell myself DON'T CRY because I just could not handle it. Around 4:45 we get called back to a room. Two vet techs and the vet come in because, no joke, Snicks is super popular around those parts. (If it's not already obvious why, it's because not only is he cute, he's very calm and well behaved.)

The vet looks at his skin problem and at first isn't sure what it is.

Then she goes, "Do you see this black spot?"

Yes.

"He has fleas."

WHAT the WHAT.

Like how does this even happen? He practically lives in a bubble.

I am not kidding you when I say I sat down and started crying. The vet was like "Are you getting upset?" They were so nice and trying to tell me this is not a big deal, but I was just so overwhelmed and the dam broke. They told me that this is the animal equivalent of a skinned knee. They told me they see so much worse every day. They told me that I caught it super early because I watch him so closely. And they did so much for me. They talked me off the ledge, they told me what to do at my house, they treated Snicks with medicine and combed him, and they told me to drop him off the following day (today) where he could stay all day while I bombed my house.

These people are the real deal.

So I came home last night and refrained from burning my house down. Seriously.

It's a long story, but I don't teach on Thursdays because here in a couple weeks I have to start student teaching (yet another story for another day). God blessed me because today is obviously Thursday and I was able to take half a personal day without requiring my school to get a sub. I got Snicks all packed up, complete with a bagged lunch with his name on it (yep), and dropped him off at the vet at 8 a.m. I then went to the store and got the flea bomb and some flea spray.

There were three bombs in that package, so I used all three. I'm not messing around here. I decided to bomb the hell out of my house. Go big or go home.

I'm not sure what I thought the bomb was going to look like. I think maybe this?

Minus the fairy tale characters and trip to the Enchanted Forest.

Alas, it looked like spray. I hightailed it out of there as per the directions.

I worked the rest of the day, then went home to vacuum before picking up Snickers. I'm not sure what I assumed my house would look like -- I think I was imaging some sort of post-apocalyptic scene with dead bodies everywhere. Or like that scene in "The Craft" where all those bugs are all over the shower? That scene haunts me to this day. (I would have posted it for you here, but I can't find it, so it's your lucky day.)

In reality, it looked like my apartment, just hotter because the air/fans had been off all day.

I did my vacuuming and went to pick up Snickers, where the vet charged me NO DOLLARS for taking care of him all day. I love these people.

I brought him back home -- flea free (please God) -- and proceeded to spend the subsequent four hours cleaning everything. Vacuuming, washing, bleaching. The positive here is that my house has never been so clean. It's usually clean, but this is like for real clean, like sweeping under the couch and stuff. The biggest pain in the rear has been washing so much stuff. Washers go faster than dryers because they are from the devil, and that helps no one.

In the event this ever happens to you, you really only need two supplies to help yourself out. The first is a package of flea bombs. The second is alcohol. No, not the rubbing kind. The drinking kind. That part's for you. That's how we handle fleas in this house.

Also, I feel pretty terrible because the only real promise I ever made Baby S is that no one is trying to eat him. Whoops.

This is the face of someone who has suffered so many indignities over the past couple of days he may never bounce back.

At any rate, I've been ordered to vacuum twice a day and put flea treatment on Snicks monthly. Done and done. I just pray to the dear Lord God in Heaven that this never happens again. I cannot even deal.

So, I hope you have enjoyed my transparency and honesty about what is going on up in herrr. I hope this never happens to you, but if it does, know that I am here to offer moral support. I'll bring the wine.

And please remember that if you think you've had a bad day, Snicks has had fleas pooping on his head for who knows how long. Puts things into perspective doesn't it?

Local Eating!

I like to shop locally whenever I possibly can, especially where food is involved. Luckily, we have a great year-round local foods store called the Wild Ramp that I visited this morning. I bought a few things and then realized it was about a day's worth of delicious meals!

First up, breakfast:

This delicious mocha zucchini bread from 3 Chicks A Bakin. What a great way to start the day!

Lunch:

I bought these grape tomatoes from 4got-N-Tymes. These cucumbers were grown by local veterans through the Veterans and Warriors to Agriculture program. (I will admit that the red onion is one I already had at home.) But the bonus? This bowl was crafted by a local artist, and I got it at this great event called Empty Bowls.

Dinner:

Purple potatoes! How much do you love these? They are so pretty! Sadly, I can remember which farm they came from, but I will try and find out and will update when I can.

I also got these great green beans from Back Acher Farms. I used one of my favorite recipes, which I eat about once a week, and this is by far the best this recipe has ever tasted!

Dessert:

I am not a huge fan of fudge to be honest, but this looked so good I decided to try it, and I'm glad I did! It has lavender in it -- yum! It's from Spirits of the Wildwood.

Bonus:

So this didn't come from the Wild Ramp, but I did stop in to our local beer place, Bottle and Wedge, to pick up a couple of new bottles to try. I haven't had one yet, but maybe when I get back from yoga tonight. I mean, that's how that works, right?

Baby S.

I got one of the biggest compliments of my life yesterday that both made me feel awesome and awful at the same time.

I took Snicks to the vet for a checkup, but I was worried about a few things that I brought up to the vet and the vet techs who know us pretty well and are awesome. When I was getting ready to leave, one of the vet techs said to me,

"There are children who should receive the kind of care you give to him."

It made me feel great for obvious reasons, but here's why it made me feel awful: Snicks has been doing some things lately like piddling outside his litterbox and piddling outside his cage that are so frustrating. And I've been thinking about moving and how hard it is to find an apartment to rent that will either allow pets or allow them without charging a gazillion dollars. So, I guess I am ashamed to say I thought about how much "easier" things would be without him the other day. Now, I would never EVER EVER EVER get rid of him because he is my baby (and my responsibility), and I couldn't live without him, but I had allowed that thought into my mind lately of how frustrating he can be sometimes.

So when the vet tech said that to me, I honestly cried. Cried because I was so ashamed of myself that I even entertained the thought even one time about how hard he can make things.

Snicks will be five and a half in August, and when I brought up to the vet about him piddling outside his cage where his litterbox is, she did say that he is getting older and maybe having a harder time getting into and out of his cage, so she suggested I get him a little step to help him in and out.

I am sure you can imagine the emotional strain hearing "he is getting older" caused. So I cried a lot yesterday, that's for sure. He looks the same as he always did, and he seems to act the same as he always has for the most part, but the truth is, he is five and a half, not a year old any more. He could live another 10 years, but still -- he is getting older.

And the truth is -- he's my little bunny. He's my little pal. He's who is here every day when I get home. No matter what kind of day I've had or what I've done or what went on, he's still here hopping about. And you can't really say that about a lot of things.

So here's to you Baby Snicks, world's greatest bunny. I'd live in a crappy apartment and clean up your piddle every day if it meant you'd live forever. Cause I love you.

Heart Kid: Josie Lynne

If you've been reading my blog for a while or following me on Facebook, then you know all about AnnaMarie. She was my very first heart kid through Reece's Rainbow, and she was adopted before her time ran out, which was a miracle!

After AnnaMarie was adopted, Joseph became my heart kid. He only had till October of this year to find a family before he aged out, and I just found out that he has a committed family! 

I really feel that my sweeties AnnaMarie and Joseph found their forever families because of the prayers of you guys who read this blog and joined me in my prayers for them.

And now I'm going to ask you to pray again, for something that seems impossible.

I always choose an At-Risk of Aging Out kid, because those kids are on a very serious deadline to find families before they age out of the adoptable age in their respective countries and will NEVER have a family.

NEVER HAVE  A FAMILY. CAN YOU IMAGINE?!? My heart seriously breaks. 

I was just matched with Josie Lynne as my new heart kid. Here she is

How cute is she?!? I mean seriously. Here is some info about her:

Josie Lynne cares for each person around her and loves to help. She helps her foster mother because she is concerned that her foster mother may get too tired from all the household chores. Her foster brother is blind and she always, on her own initiative, helps him to do things such as preparing toothpaste, getting water, clothes, and shoes, holding his hands and leading him when being outside. When celebrating the National Day they visited the zoo, she would tell her foster brother what was happening and the appearances and living habits of all kinds of animals. They even saw the pandas’ performances. She happily told him how a panda turned a somersault. She happily told him how a panda turned a somersault. He was excited and happily said, “a panda is so cute, Josie, you are very good at telling those things, it seems I see the panda.” Josie Lynne has studied in the Little Sister program for 2 years. She really likes school. Although she has poor ability of understanding, she loves studying with good learning habits and attitude. The teachers love reviewing her homework because she writes down words neatly and formally. Josie Lynne especially loves dancing with beautiful gestures. Josie Lynne is best friends with Elizabeth who is her foster sister.

(Loves dancing! That's when I knew I had found my girl.)

She is so well-behaved, so helpful, so special. 

Here's the thing guys -- Josie Lynne ages out of being able to be adopted in September. 

As in 2015. As in two months away.

I know. It's totally crazy. It's crazier than crazy.

But will you join me in praying anyway? Pray that Josie Lynne's family finds her ASAP. She needs a family so badly. She's just a kid. 

Maybe you are Josie Lynne's family? 

SUMMER!

Not quite a year ago, on June 5, 2014, I announced on this blog that I was going back to school full time to pursue what I felt was God calling me to be a teacher.

Then, on July 14, 2014, I announced on this blog that I had accepted a job teaching at Our Lady of Fatima Parish School the previous Friday, July 11.

And now it is June 2, 2015 -- our last day of school. I finished a whole school year, my first as a teacher. And it hasn't even been quite a year yet since I even had ANY idea I'd be any sort of teacher this year. Crazy, right? 

It's amazing what God will do if you just let Him. If you get out of your own way and actually bother to ask God what it is that He wants you to do. And even if you, like me, think there's no way you can do something -- you're not qualified, you have no idea what you're doing, you think you'll be a failure -- remember that God is not actually limited by what YOU can do. He's not limited by your abilities or how you think about yourself.

As one of my favorite blog writers has said -- God doesn't look at your ability as much as your availability.

And I was available. 

I spent some time after school today reading a few cards I had received from students, specifically two of my eighth graders. I was in tears, just looking around my room, when my principal walked in and asked what I was doing. I told her, and she said, "You're just reflecting." And I said exactly. That is exactly what I was doing. And we had a nice conversation about how I didn't even know her a year ago or even know I would be teaching, and we talked about how God just works in such mysterious ways. 

I told her, "Sometimes it takes a long time to figure out what it is that God wants you to do. But when you do, it is such a relief."

And I don't think I realized till I said that that it absolutely is. So relieving and freeing. 

Before I left school I pulled out a notebook my friend Kay (also a middle school language arts teacher!) gave me. On the front it says "Always believe that something wonderful is about to happen." She gave it to me last May, before any of this happened. I used it to plan my first lessons last year. I smiled as I looked through it today, remembering how unsure I was about everything. 

This evening I was looking through my blog at all the posts I labeled with "teaching." Oh man, so many memories, things I'd already moved to the back of my mind. The exhaustion, the fairy tales, the fear, The Twilight Zone, the worry and doubt. But one thing that really made me smile is that one of the earliest posts I tagged with "teaching," one that I wrote before school even started, I titled "My Friend Atticus Finch." And how prophetic that would be. 

School ended today at noon, and I got home around 1 p.m. My principal asked me if I was leaving, and I told her I was almost done with my summer checklist (teachers work tomorrow and half of Thursday), and she said "Head out then!" I told her I wasn't sure what to do with myself, but that I liked to stay ahead on my graduate school work. She said no -- she said it's the last day of school, go home, lie on the couch, binge-watch Netflix. So I did. I came home to do nothing.

I was looking in the fridge for a snack, when I realized I had a bottle of champagne in there that my parents gave me when I graduated with my Master's in Journalism a year ago. It had just been sitting there for a year, waiting for an occasion. So I decided that today was the day. I had something to celebrate, so I cracked it open and toasted myself. 

I am still in denial/amazement that this school year is over, and it is summer. SUMMER. A summer with no work. That is amazing. 

I do have four classes I'm taking all summer, and I also have several things I want to do around my classroom. But I'm going to make myself enjoy this summer. Sleep in some days, enjoy some coffee on the couch, go to the pool with Melissa. I'm super excited to be visiting my Aunt Jennifer and Uncle Bobby in South Carolina with my grandmother in just a couple of weeks! I just want to enjoy the fact that I worked 70-80 hour weeks at my job most of this school year and now I have the opportunity to just have some time off in the sunshine.
 I hope you have a super sunny and happy summer! 

I Declare This Meeting of The Midnight Society Closed.

There are a lot of hard things about being a teacher, such as all the planning, dealing with discipline issues, and grading. But I will tell you that the absolute hardest thing about being a teacher is sitting in your room at 10:40 a.m. when you should have your fourth period students but they are not there because they have graduated. It's way too quiet. Saying goodbye is the hardest thing.

I love all my students, but I am particularly close to this year's eighth grade class. There was only eight of them, and they were all so well behaved and polite. They were just easy. Anything you wanted them to do, they did with energy and smiles. They were just a joy to teach. I looked forward to seeing them every day.

Really, it all started with a mouse. A little mouse named Algernon, whom we read about early in the year. Then it was The Midnight Society. And then -- and THEN -- it was To Kill a Mockingbird. And that was our special year together.

They graduated Wednesday night. The girl who is the valedictorian spoke about a few of her past and present teachers. She spoke about me last and said I taught them that not everything had to be so stressful, and that they should trust their teachers more because we're there to help. And, as if that was not enough, she finished by saying, "Most importantly, she taught us that a book can change your life."

I am STILL crying. And honestly, I might print that on a poster and hang it on my classroom wall. In fact, I absolutely will.

I also received a card from another of my eighth graders. It was one of the most humbling, kind, and longest letters I've ever received. I will forever keep it -- and the contents of it -- for myself, but the P.S. was especially profound. My student told me when she gave me the card that she knew this would be the last thing she'd ever write that I'd read (*sob*) and she knew the last line had to be a great one:

I'll say she succeeded. (And she doesn't know how much of that she owes to Story.) Man. MAN.

I am so proud of this class. They will do so much that is great in their lives. I am sad for me, because they will move on, and I will be back in the same classroom missing them, but I am so happy for them too. I can't wait to see what they'll do.

I feel like God has blessed me so much this year with this job and this calling. I will never know why He gave this to me, but I will forever be grateful to Him.

I am a Teacher.

Man, I had a pretty trying day. I am taking a class this summer that meets on four Saturdays from 9-6 and two Fridays from 5-9 in Charleston, which is about an hour from where I live.

And you know what, that's cool. I had reconciled myself to that fact. It's only a few times, and it's better to take it in summer when I'm not teaching school instead of fall when I'd be teaching Monday through Friday. So I drove to Charleston today with my snacks, my water, my lunch packed, a notebook, and my required three-ring binder. Ready to learn because I love new teaching ideas.

Overall my teacher seems nice and she is definitely interested in the subject matter, so that's great. But the problem lies in something that requires a smidge of backstory.

See, my undergraduate degree is in political science, and I also have a master's degree in journalism. Because my undergrad is political science, upon completion of my Master's in Teaching program, I will be certified to teach social studies for grades five through adult. I already passed the Praxis II exam in that content area. However, I currently teach Language Arts at Fatima. I teach all three middle school grades (6, 7, and 8), and I teach grammar, writing, literature, spelling, and vocabulary. In our diocese, a person can teach as long as there is a plan in place for teaching certification. So everything I've studied and taught over the past year is straight language arts.

I had an amazing teacher last semester (shout out Kelly Bonar!) who was like -- Anna, look, I get that social studies is technically your area, but you teach language arts, so please feel free to do all applicable work in this class for language arts. Do things you can use.

Oh, also, I should add now that I have also taken, and passed (with flying colors, I might humbly add) the language arts Praxis II exam.

During a break today, I mentioned to my teacher that where Marshall is concerned my content area is social studies, but I teach (and plan to continue to teach) language arts, so would it be all right if I did my work in this class focused on language arts? (Thinking that it would be great to plan actual lessons with actual students in mind and actually teach them.) Um, she laughed at me. Like actually laughed. And I'm still not sure why. And also, I never got an answer other than that, so I assume the answer is no? After she laughed at me, she asked me how I plan to do my student teaching, so I explained what my principal had worked out with Marshall concerning my placement for the fall. (In a nutshell, I'll be going into a public school to teach social studies one day a week while keeping up all my language arts/religion duties at Fatima.) She said that might work, but that there's no way I can teach at Fatima and also student teach in the spring (because you need way more hours). Thanks? I mean, I know it's the state's fault -- not Marshall's -- that I, in essence, have to leave my teaching job to go student teach so I can get a teaching job, but could I get some support? I mean, we have tons of standards we have to meet for our academics PLUS we have to integrate Catholic Identity into everything, so we actually have MORE standards.

And all of that was fine until this one incident. During a break, the girl next to me and I were chatting, and she was asking me about teaching and going to school. She said, "So do you have a conditional license from the state or something?" Before I could explain the diocesan rules, my teacher butts in and says, and I quote, "SHE'S NOT CERTIFIED."

Okay. Thanks.

In this past year, I have been going to school full time while also being a first-year teacher. I have put in more hours that I can remember since I officially accepted this job July 11 doing research, planning lessons, reading about best teaching practices, reading books, scouring the internet, cleaning, organizing, scrubbing, etc. I'm not complaining because most of it was a lot of fun, and I have loved my teaching job. But I say all that to say, I might not have that much formal education in teaching, but I am a teacher.

I AM A TEACHER.

You want to know how I know that? I have actual students. My students -- who I write lesson plans for, whose work I grade, whose learning I encourage, whose well being I lose sleep over, who I am always there for -- are ACTUAL people. They are not hypothetical students I might have "one day" when I graduate the MAT program. They are Magdalena and Olivia. Tommy and Gabe. Katy and Zoe. Some of them are amazing creative writers. Some love to talk. Some are class clowns. Some always forget to raise their hands. They are oldest children, youngest children, middle children. They come from families with 10 kids and they are only children. They have parents with limitless money, and some have parents who work multiple jobs. Some are C students who could be A students, while others get Cs we celebrate. In fact, last week, I wrote on a student's spelling test, "It makes my week when you get a 100% on a spelling test!" AND IT DOES. And if that's not being a teacher, then I honestly am not sure what is.

One of the things I said to my mom/dad/Erin/Melissa/anyone who would listen back in July before I formally accepted this job is that I was afraid that the other teachers at my school would think that I thought that I could do what they do, no problem, pretty much poo-poohing their years of education and experience. Which is not how I feel AT ALL. But you know what? Not a one of them has ever said or even insinuated they felt that way. Not once. In fact, the most veteran teacher at our school, who has won many awards and who is one of my favorite teachers of all time said to me (when I brought this up to her last summer) -- Anna, the only thing having a teaching degree means is that you have a teaching degree.

Wow. I have carried that with me this whole school year.

A parent who has a kid in my class this year and will have two next year, when I mentioned the lack of degree to her said -- Anna, you have to stop getting hung up on that degree.

Wow. I have carried that with me too.

Am I the best teacher at my school? NOT BY A LONG SHOT. I have so much to learn, which is why I go to my classes with an open mind and heart to be an even better teacher. But have I given this year literally every. single. drop. of everything I had? Most definitely. And every time my 100% was not enough (which was every day), the Lord came in and gave me exactly what I needed. And I believe He has done that because He called me to something, I said yes to Him even though I was scared terrified, He sees that I give it all I have, and He honors that.

Obviously I place a high value on education. I'm a teacher. Haha. And I don't say all this for pity or compliments or anything. I say it because I need your prayers. And your support. And, if you are ever in a position where you can lift someone up or make them feel inferior, please pick lift someone up.

That's what a teacher would do.