This is trash.
Showing posts with label serious face. Show all posts
Showing posts with label serious face. Show all posts
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
Red Light, Green Light
For those of you who have no clue what I am talking about, you can find out more about Schizoaffective Disorder here and ECT here Or Google them.
If you had to take a guess as to what question I get asked most frequently is, what would you think? And no, "how are you" and other generic pleasantries don't count.
If you guessed "How is Joe doing?", you win the prize! (The prize is the satisfaction of being right. Hey, I'm cheap, I'm not giving you a REAL prize!)
I'm not going to go into the whole back story right now (though I probably will blog about it at some point). Since my stats tell me I have quite a few stalkers out there now (Hi everyone!!), writing a blog post is probably the fastest way to update everyone all at once.
Most (some?) of you know that Joe, my husband, is disabled. He suffers from schizoaffective disorder. Click the link at the beginning of the post if you want more info about it.
For some time now, medication therapy has not been working. We've done it all. Well I'm sure we missed a particular drug or two, but we've pretty well hit every combination of every category of drug approved for the treatment of mental illness (and a few that were not!) to no avail. About 3 years ago, the doctors started bringing up a treatment called Electroconvulsive Therapy, or ECT.
If you had to take a guess as to what question I get asked most frequently is, what would you think? And no, "how are you" and other generic pleasantries don't count.
If you guessed "How is Joe doing?", you win the prize! (The prize is the satisfaction of being right. Hey, I'm cheap, I'm not giving you a REAL prize!)
I'm not going to go into the whole back story right now (though I probably will blog about it at some point). Since my stats tell me I have quite a few stalkers out there now (Hi everyone!!), writing a blog post is probably the fastest way to update everyone all at once.
Most (some?) of you know that Joe, my husband, is disabled. He suffers from schizoaffective disorder. Click the link at the beginning of the post if you want more info about it.
For some time now, medication therapy has not been working. We've done it all. Well I'm sure we missed a particular drug or two, but we've pretty well hit every combination of every category of drug approved for the treatment of mental illness (and a few that were not!) to no avail. About 3 years ago, the doctors started bringing up a treatment called Electroconvulsive Therapy, or ECT.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Sidewalk Chalk on a Friday Morning
The sun is peeking over the slanted red metal roof and the wind is softly blowing. The temperature is a perfect 65 degrees. It's 8:30am on a Friday morning in February. And the children are playing outside my office window.
They are taking their spelling words and writing on the front walk with chalk. All up and down the walk, you can see their happy little faces and hear them chattering to each other. Everyone gets their own 4' x 4' square. They aren't allowed to draw pictures until they get their work done.
It's such amazing insight into the inner workings of their brains. Some write the words quickly, eager to get on with the drawing part. Some struggle to get started, waiting until the last minute. Some write impossibly tiny, careful to save their chalk and maximize their drawing space for when the work is done. Some write letters the size of their feet, proud to show off that they are good spellers and can write out those words. Some list the words carefully and neatly, in nice even rows. Some write in every direction and size.
Times like these make me glad to work here, in this building with these people. It seems like a no brainer that kids would love to write their spelling words with chalk. But when you factor in all the "stuff" that teachers are required to do and kids are required to master, 30 minutes spent outside just enjoying the morning and letting the kids have fun with learning is hard to carve out. There are tests to be taken, assessments to give, lessons to plan, and interventions to implement. There are behaviors to correct, phone calls to make, emails to process, and papers to grade. Education has changed so much since "we" were in school. Teachers don't get to teach anymore and children don't get to learn. Teachers get to collect, analyze, and chart growth data while students get to strive to reach and accomplish age appropriate expectations.
But sometimes, just for a brief moment in time, kids get to be kids and learn for the fun of learning, and teachers get to guide them in exploration of knowledge, letting them experience the material in a way that is both memorable and meaningful while working in their own way at their own pace.
It makes me want to grab a piece of chalk and go outside to play.
They are taking their spelling words and writing on the front walk with chalk. All up and down the walk, you can see their happy little faces and hear them chattering to each other. Everyone gets their own 4' x 4' square. They aren't allowed to draw pictures until they get their work done.
It's such amazing insight into the inner workings of their brains. Some write the words quickly, eager to get on with the drawing part. Some struggle to get started, waiting until the last minute. Some write impossibly tiny, careful to save their chalk and maximize their drawing space for when the work is done. Some write letters the size of their feet, proud to show off that they are good spellers and can write out those words. Some list the words carefully and neatly, in nice even rows. Some write in every direction and size.
Times like these make me glad to work here, in this building with these people. It seems like a no brainer that kids would love to write their spelling words with chalk. But when you factor in all the "stuff" that teachers are required to do and kids are required to master, 30 minutes spent outside just enjoying the morning and letting the kids have fun with learning is hard to carve out. There are tests to be taken, assessments to give, lessons to plan, and interventions to implement. There are behaviors to correct, phone calls to make, emails to process, and papers to grade. Education has changed so much since "we" were in school. Teachers don't get to teach anymore and children don't get to learn. Teachers get to collect, analyze, and chart growth data while students get to strive to reach and accomplish age appropriate expectations.
But sometimes, just for a brief moment in time, kids get to be kids and learn for the fun of learning, and teachers get to guide them in exploration of knowledge, letting them experience the material in a way that is both memorable and meaningful while working in their own way at their own pace.
It makes me want to grab a piece of chalk and go outside to play.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Open Letter #15
Dear People Who Work in a School,
No one made you work here. If you don't like children, get out. Right now.
No seriously, this is a safe place for children, all children. Regardless of their race or background, regardless of the choices their parents make and have made. For you to sit on your Upper Middle Class high horse and look down your nose at a little child who has no choice about his circumstances makes me sick. I don't expect you to know every detail of every child's personal circumstances. But I DO expect you to be compassionate to all the children. When you speak to a little child with an attitude and sneer at them because they are inconveniencing you...I don't even have words.
Just so you know, that child you yelled at this morning who came in at 8:30 wanting breakfast? He hasn't eaten since lunchtime yesterday. He doesn't know where his mother is. His big brother who has always taken care of him is living with his grandma, and his little sister he's always looked out for is with mom. He is being bounced from house to house by his father's relatives. A father who, by the way, he barely knows. They are taking him in as they are able, but this little child has no idea where he will rest his head tonight or even how he will leave school. All of his possessions are in his bookbag. He's been wearing the same exact clothes for 2 weeks. Sometimes they get washed, when he is able to find someone kind enough to wash them. This is the only safe haven he has right now.
So for you to treat him like you did this morning is completely unacceptable. I hope you enjoyed that cinnamon roll you kept for yourself, because had I not seen that go down, that child would have remained hungry until lunch this afternoon.
Now like I said, I know you don't know every child's circumstances, nor do I expect you to. But maybe your eyes will be a little more open to the fact that these kids deal with things you cannot even imagine. And a little bit of the child was shattered this morning when you chose to be ugly to him. A little bit more of his faith in humanity was destroyed.
Try to Love Them Like Jesus Does,
An Advocate for the Children
No one made you work here. If you don't like children, get out. Right now.
No seriously, this is a safe place for children, all children. Regardless of their race or background, regardless of the choices their parents make and have made. For you to sit on your Upper Middle Class high horse and look down your nose at a little child who has no choice about his circumstances makes me sick. I don't expect you to know every detail of every child's personal circumstances. But I DO expect you to be compassionate to all the children. When you speak to a little child with an attitude and sneer at them because they are inconveniencing you...I don't even have words.
Just so you know, that child you yelled at this morning who came in at 8:30 wanting breakfast? He hasn't eaten since lunchtime yesterday. He doesn't know where his mother is. His big brother who has always taken care of him is living with his grandma, and his little sister he's always looked out for is with mom. He is being bounced from house to house by his father's relatives. A father who, by the way, he barely knows. They are taking him in as they are able, but this little child has no idea where he will rest his head tonight or even how he will leave school. All of his possessions are in his bookbag. He's been wearing the same exact clothes for 2 weeks. Sometimes they get washed, when he is able to find someone kind enough to wash them. This is the only safe haven he has right now.
So for you to treat him like you did this morning is completely unacceptable. I hope you enjoyed that cinnamon roll you kept for yourself, because had I not seen that go down, that child would have remained hungry until lunch this afternoon.
Now like I said, I know you don't know every child's circumstances, nor do I expect you to. But maybe your eyes will be a little more open to the fact that these kids deal with things you cannot even imagine. And a little bit of the child was shattered this morning when you chose to be ugly to him. A little bit more of his faith in humanity was destroyed.
Try to Love Them Like Jesus Does,
An Advocate for the Children
Monday, September 19, 2011
Letter to the Readers
Dear Reader,
First of all, humor me. I am pretending you exist and that I am not just writing this blog for the amusement of the magic internet faeries.
Before we go any farther, I thought there were a couple of things you might need to know.
I started this blog because there was never enough room on FaceBook to fully write an open letter. That and people tending to think said letters were directed towards them specifically, which is generally not true. I am a pretty sarcastic person by nature and sometimes I just need an outlet to get the snark out, ya know?!
Apparently, some people think I am funny. Or have a talent for writing. Or something. While those people may or may not have issues, I am choosing to think that I AM, in fact, funny and DO have a talent for writing. Take that, 11th grade English teacher who refused to give me an A no matter how good my papers were! "If it's not good enough to be published, I can't give you an A for it. A is for excellence."
It's possible I might have some stalker tendencies. I check my stats and get really excited when I have a page view that isn't mine. Yeah, I know. Anyway, if you ARE reading this, drop me a comment. You can remain anonymous if you REALLY want to. That will slowly drive me crazy, just so you know. Or crazier. Whatever.
I've made many attempts at blogging over the years but most of those have failed because the blog lacked direction. So I'm trying to keep the format of an open letter so the blog will have focus. This will probably change over time, but it's a start! And I've managed to keep it going this long!
Some things about me that you might not pick up on just due to the nature of this blog:
First of all, humor me. I am pretending you exist and that I am not just writing this blog for the amusement of the magic internet faeries.
Before we go any farther, I thought there were a couple of things you might need to know.
I started this blog because there was never enough room on FaceBook to fully write an open letter. That and people tending to think said letters were directed towards them specifically, which is generally not true. I am a pretty sarcastic person by nature and sometimes I just need an outlet to get the snark out, ya know?!
Apparently, some people think I am funny. Or have a talent for writing. Or something. While those people may or may not have issues, I am choosing to think that I AM, in fact, funny and DO have a talent for writing. Take that, 11th grade English teacher who refused to give me an A no matter how good my papers were! "If it's not good enough to be published, I can't give you an A for it. A is for excellence."
It's possible I might have some stalker tendencies. I check my stats and get really excited when I have a page view that isn't mine. Yeah, I know. Anyway, if you ARE reading this, drop me a comment. You can remain anonymous if you REALLY want to. That will slowly drive me crazy, just so you know. Or crazier. Whatever.
I've made many attempts at blogging over the years but most of those have failed because the blog lacked direction. So I'm trying to keep the format of an open letter so the blog will have focus. This will probably change over time, but it's a start! And I've managed to keep it going this long!
Some things about me that you might not pick up on just due to the nature of this blog:
- I'm first and foremost a follower of Jesus Christ. He is my reason for everything in life. Please don't let the angrier of the posts fool you - I am committed to being daily molded to the image of Christ. That is another reason I started this blog; I noticed a creeping tendency to blurt things out and sometimes those things were inappropriate and/or hurtful. This blog is an outlet for me to get those things out of my system.
- I'm so incredibly blessed to be married to my wonderful husband. Every day I love him more than I did the day before.
- We have 2 great kids. I mean really great. Other people think their kids are great, and I'm sure they are, but ours are freaking great. I'm just sayin'. And they do not get their sense of humor from me. Or their use of sarcasm. I'll take full credit for their philanthropic tendencies and loving natures though.
- I work as a school finance and record keeping secretary at a public school in North Carolina with about 450 students. These kids are largely "from da hood" and live in poverty. This tends to lead to me using my "ghetto voice".
- I have a real passion for children and mental disabilities, both together and separately. This tends to come through in my writing. I may be prone to jumping up on my soapbox and going off when one of these hot button issues is pushed.
- I don't do secrets well. Or double lives. What you see is what you get. I'm not going to pretty it up to make myself feel better, though I do try to spare feelings when possible.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Open Letter #11
Dear Sweet 10 1/2 Year Old Child of Mine,
Thank you for teaching me more about the love of God. Thank you for showing me how to trust God more through your example. Thank you for making me a better person.
You have a million questions and I only have about half the answers. You push me to find them, and in doing so I am able to further my own knowledge and understanding.
You make me laugh with the funny way you understand things. I think you get that from me. It's probably my fault for trying to wrap every explanation into an easy-to-relate-to scenario. This is probably why you told me heaven sounds like an episode of The Waltons. Thanks for breaking that down for me. I think we may need to revisit that particular scenario.
You have the sweetest prayers. Seriously. You can bring adults (even those OTHER than your dear old mom) to tears with the fervency and sincerity of your pleadings with God. You have such a strong faith - you don't doubt for one second that God is there and that he is listening specifically to you. I have yet to hear you pray anything for yourself. I am sure that you do, and I know that some of the things you pray for are indirectly for yourself, but you always put others first in your prayers. We're working on that being evidenced in your deeds, but I have no doubt we'll get there eventually.
The suffering of others truly bothers you. You are always outraged at injustice and want to fix it, and fix it now. Even from a very young age, you have always been compassionate towards those less fortunate than you. You are also truly color and ability blind. You don't care what other people will think or say about you. You see others the way God sees them - as special and unique individuals worthy of your time and energy. You actively seek out those who are different and strive to incorporate them into your life. That's a lesson we all could stand to learn.
Please forgive me for being short tempered with you at times. Your mom is a sinner just like the rest of the world, and sometimes that gets the best of me. I need to be more patient with you. I need to be more understanding. I need to recognize that the Son of God offered himself up on the cross as a sacrifice to save you from your sins, and that then he gave you to me to love and care for. To guide and nurture, and to point back to him on a constant basis. I know I have made many mistakes and will continue to make them, but I pray that you will forgive me for them and that God will continue to shape and mold me to be the best mom to you that I can be.
Thanks for letting me be a part of your life's story.
I love you more than you will ever know,
Your Mama
Thank you for teaching me more about the love of God. Thank you for showing me how to trust God more through your example. Thank you for making me a better person.
You have a million questions and I only have about half the answers. You push me to find them, and in doing so I am able to further my own knowledge and understanding.
You make me laugh with the funny way you understand things. I think you get that from me. It's probably my fault for trying to wrap every explanation into an easy-to-relate-to scenario. This is probably why you told me heaven sounds like an episode of The Waltons. Thanks for breaking that down for me. I think we may need to revisit that particular scenario.
You have the sweetest prayers. Seriously. You can bring adults (even those OTHER than your dear old mom) to tears with the fervency and sincerity of your pleadings with God. You have such a strong faith - you don't doubt for one second that God is there and that he is listening specifically to you. I have yet to hear you pray anything for yourself. I am sure that you do, and I know that some of the things you pray for are indirectly for yourself, but you always put others first in your prayers. We're working on that being evidenced in your deeds, but I have no doubt we'll get there eventually.
The suffering of others truly bothers you. You are always outraged at injustice and want to fix it, and fix it now. Even from a very young age, you have always been compassionate towards those less fortunate than you. You are also truly color and ability blind. You don't care what other people will think or say about you. You see others the way God sees them - as special and unique individuals worthy of your time and energy. You actively seek out those who are different and strive to incorporate them into your life. That's a lesson we all could stand to learn.
Please forgive me for being short tempered with you at times. Your mom is a sinner just like the rest of the world, and sometimes that gets the best of me. I need to be more patient with you. I need to be more understanding. I need to recognize that the Son of God offered himself up on the cross as a sacrifice to save you from your sins, and that then he gave you to me to love and care for. To guide and nurture, and to point back to him on a constant basis. I know I have made many mistakes and will continue to make them, but I pray that you will forgive me for them and that God will continue to shape and mold me to be the best mom to you that I can be.
Thanks for letting me be a part of your life's story.
I love you more than you will ever know,
Your Mama
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