Farewell, Home

For the past 6 1/2 years, we have lived in this sweet house. And now we're about to bid it farewell. For the wondering minds, we are staying in Topeka but moving to a different house. We'll have more room for our people and more land for adventuring. To be clear, we didn't go looking for a different house. In fact, mere weeks before I said to Dan that I figured we had about 5 years left in our current house. It's funny, really. I'm certain the emotions will set in over the next few weeks as we prep to move, but for now, I'm only excited about a new house to make our home. As a practice of closure, here is my ode to our Birchwood Lane house. 

Both our babies came home to us for the first time here. This is all they've ever known as home. Every year we have about a dozen tulips come up in the ground covering. I can name at least 5 children who have plucked a tulip or two to give to their momma. When Bennett was learning to walk, we would spend time in the front yard while he would climb up and down the front steps.

 I hosted my first baby shower back here some 6 years ago. That little one is now in kindergarten. Many boys have climbed that ginko and made it way too high for comfort. We used to pay the nephews in Smarties to pick up all the corn cobs squirrels would bring into our yard.

 Pre-kids, I spent nearly an entire week painting these stripes. And they are PERFECT. I'm not a terribly whimsicle person, but they, along with the bright yellow interior door, add just the right amount of whimsy to an otherwise formal entry. I've never fallen going down the stairs but have fallen twice going up. Once with a full cup of steaming coffee. Bennett took a tumble halfway down earlier this year, but other than those mishaps, these stairs have surprisingly been free of casualties.

Piano lessons galore here. When I was pregnant with Finley, I think I had to take a bathroom break in between each student. And when we bought that couch 6 years ago, I swore it added equity to our house (spoiler alert: it didn't). Oh, and that yellow chair in the corner I purchased at a garage sale for $1 over 10 years ago. Still one of my favorite finds. 

When Bennett was a challenging newborn, I paced the house and this room, in particular. The floor is creaky, like an old house, and walking through this room helped calm him down. I'm going to miss the creaks that I know so well. 

Bennett's big boy room. He napped here for a year and then has had rest time for a year. He plays HARD and has a wild imagination. We've explained to him that at the new house, he'll have a smaller bed, but I think there will still be a transition period from his massive bed to a normal size twin bed.

Oh this room. It started as a screened in porch. Dan built a porch swing for me. Bennett and I spent HOURS out here the first few months of his life. It was truly his only happy place. Converting it to a 3-seasons room was the best decision we made - all Dan's idea.

What started out as a space floor-to-ceiling with wallpaper has now held dozens of people for meals. Another sweet old room with creaky floors and a swinging door that has pinched a handful of fingers.

I used to cook all the time. It was a calming practice. Then we had kids. Now meals are fast and furious and meal prep is even faster. But this is still such a sweet space.

I would guess that 90% of our living occurs here.  First steps, first words. It all happened here. 

Hanging clocks high is so fun. Except twice a year when the time changes. It took us an average of 2 months each time to get a ladder and adjust it. Lesson learned. 

When we moved in, I dreamed of spending hours on the window seat reading. I don't know about you, but I prefer a cozier spot to read, so that never happened. Nonetheless, it is a happy space.

I did some math the other day and calculated some obnoxious amount of hours spent here when the babes were little. Nighttime feedings, rocking sick babes, pacing until an infant falls back asleep. And the one time I saw a spider while nursing and proceeded to chase it down until it met its demise.

All the potty training. All of it. And all the learning to wash hands. And the constant presence of Dan and Heidi staring at guests in the picture.

Guess what?! A king-sized bed CAN fit in this room! Best purchase EVER. It's a Tuft and Needle and it's our favorite.

One of my favorite memories here is when my dear sweet bestie Andrea and I bathed our tots while our husbands were out of town. We were both massively pregnant but knew we needed to kill some time before bedtime. So we parked it on the floor and let the tots splash.

Bennett loves this space. Often during his rest time, I hear him telling stories in here. And stuffing all sorts of nonsense in the drawers. 

This has been a perfect starter home for our crew. But it's time to move on. We are so grateful for the years spent here and for the memories we have. New memories at a new place begin soon! And we can't wait. 

Bennett D: All Things Speech

I've been wanting to write about Bennett's speech challenges for awhile now, but my pride kept getting in the way and I didn't really want to put it out there that our child struggles. Then I read my college friend Cindy's beautiful post about her daughter's struggles and felt so validated that I knew it was time. Time to put my thoughts into words. Time to shed light on some darkness. Time to find the "me too" in our situation.

I don't speak about this lightly as I recognize that Bennett is his own person who will, one day, read these posts (hi much older Bennett, I bet you're pretty awesome...you've always been pretty awesome). So this is more my side of the story and my feelings regarding the areas of struggle for our wee one.

One disclaimer my friend Cindy gave is the realization that, in light of all the special challenges faced by so many kiddos, we want to recognize that our kids' challenges are minor. But, nonetheless, they are real to us. So thanks, Cindy, for so graciously giving space to talking about minor and major hard things.

When Bennett was about 15 months old, it was subtly pointed out to me that perhaps he was behind in his speech. At the time, he was only saying "mama" and "dada" though I'm not convinced that he conceptually knew what those words meant. His wonderful daycare provider was a speech therapist and she gently encouraged us to seek out other assistance when, at 18 months, he was not making any progress in regards to speech development. 

Last January, when Bennett was 19 months, I made the call to our local early childhood support agency and choked back tears as I explained my concerns. An evaluation was scheduled and a whole slew of professionals descended upon our house to evaluate our little boy.

The day of the evaluation he actually had a fever and was much less babbly than normal. The final question during the evaluation was, "What keeps you up at night in regards to his speech?" Of course, being the emotional momma that I am, I started crying and explained that I just want him to be normal. And I feared that his lack of speech would prevent a "normal" life. 

I could talk for DAYS about all the wonderful people at TARC. They have been encouraging when they need to be encouraging, full of knowledge and resources, and so patient as we navigate these waters. Sweet Molly, our speech therapist who I want to adopt as an aunt to our kids, has been phenomenal. I know more about speech development than I ever thought was possible (input is my number one strength, heyo StrengthsQuest...this means I love information) and she has tirelessly given us resources and strategies as we work and work and work to help Bennett with his speech. 

So where am I going with all of this?

On this journey, I have gained a great deal of empathy towards parents of children with special needs. I teach special education so I always thought myself to be a woman of compassion. Oh my, was I ever wrong. But I'm learning. For some kiddos, their challenges are broad and dip into many areas. For other kiddos, their challenges are so specific and they are able to, for the most part, function "normally" (whatever that means). Bennett falls into the latter category. I've learned that his exceptionality does not define him (nor should anyone's exceptionality define them!). He's a smart cookie (all parents say that, right?). He knows when Molly and I are talking about his speech development. And he knows when he wants to work on it and when he's just not that interested. Just the other day, Molly and I were trying to figure out how he pronounced the "h" sound. Molly picked up one of his horses and asked him what it was. Bennett, the sly little stinker, just said, "Nope!" Winning. 

He's about to age out of his time with TARC and will be evaluated soon to be placed on an actual IEP through our home district. I know with that means. I've written and implemented countless IEPs. But it feels different when it's MY kid who will be on the receiving end. 

I think I needed a swift kick in the booty in regards to my thoughts about special education. Bennett's a cool, smart, perceptive, timid, loud, slightly clumsy, and sweet little boy. He's made tons of progress in his speech but we still have a long way to go. We're in it for the long haul. And some days that makes me tearful, but as of lately, it's made me happily expectant. This is not his whole story. This is just a snippet of his story. A mere blip of who he is. If he is able to be more compassionate as a result of this experience, then it was totally worth it. May we, with every day we get with him, push him to see the best in others and not just their abilities or disabilities.

All of my love and more to all you parents. It's a tough job we have, but we wouldn't trade it for the world, am I right? 

XOXO 

Post-Partum Round 2, Part 1

Hi friends. It's been awhile. But we're all still kickin' over here. Just still adjusting to life with another tiny human to care for.

The past four months have been so redeeming and so humbling. Many of you have reached out to me to see how things are going with baby number 2 and it has meant the world. I figure I owe it to you all to update you on our status.

Sweet Finley Margaret entered the world right on schedule. Well, right on MY schedule. Which is mostly hilarious because things rarely go according to my schedule. I joked with some friends in the week leading up to the induction that I really wanted her here by noon so I could have lunch and relax for the rest of the day in the recovery room. AND IT HAPPENED. Finley stormed into the world at 11:58 am. Around 11:50, mid-push, I made a joke to the nurses and my doctor that I didn't think she'd be here by noon and they informed me that, actually, she probably would. So yes. I enjoyed a lunch of chicken strips, fries, and chocolate cake while gazing at our petite little miss.

Our hospital stay was dreamy. Well, about as dreamy as a post-partum hospital stay could be. My body recovered quickly and  I was able to sleep on my back which felt AMAZING.

The next thing I share I only do because I want others to be aware. This was, without question, the scariest parenting moment for me. And, had I known what I know now, it wouldn't have been nearly as terrifying.

During our second night at the hospital, we sent Finley to the nursery so Dan and I could get some sleep (to be honest, we sent Finley both nights...no shame...in my weary state Dan reminded me that we would care for Finley nearly every night for the next 18 years, so letting her stay in the nursery in between feedings her first two nights was not going to scar her...). Around 1:30 am our night nurse popped in and said, "We want you to know that Finley is hooked up to monitors and we are running some tests. It seems that she had a seizure and we want to know what's going on."

In that split-second, I knew I had a choice to make. I could either keep my cool or completely lose it and risk not being able to stop crying. I truly believe the Lord took over in that moment and helped me remain calm. I asked if I could see her. Dan and I walked down the hall to the nursery and saw our helpless little munchkin hooked up to a handful of monitors. Her oxygen had also dropped so she was receiving breathing assistance as well.

I asked if I could nurse her and they let me. Then one of the sweetest things happened and her oxygen levels instantly went up as I nursed her. They wanted to keep monitoring her through the night and hadn't gotten any test results back so they encouraged us to go back to our room to rest and then we'd find out more in the morning.

By the grace of God I was able to actually sleep. The next morning the test results were back but nothing was conclusive. Since a doctor was not present and only two nurses had observed the incident, we didn't even know what we were to be watching for. The pediatric hospitalist assured us that everything was fine and that it was probably just an underdeveloped nervous system. Even so, I left the hospital that day feeling uneasy.

Fast forward one week. Finley, in a handful of situations, had, what I refer to as, "twitching incidents." Her arms and legs would twitch on and off when she was sleeping. It didn't look like it was hurting her, but it was certainly not normal infant twitches. Once more she had an incident when I was at our wonderful local breastfeeding clinic. The lactation consultant was concerned and called our pediatrician. I had to really advocate for sweet Fin to be seen soon but we were able to schedule an appointment for the following afternoon. The morning of the appointment Finley had another twitching incident and I quickly took a video of it.

After what seemed like forever, we were finally in the exam room with our WONDERFUL pediatrician. We explained what we had been noticing and showed her the video of Finley twitching. A light bulb went on for her and she was able to give us a name. Finley had neonatal sleep myclonus. It's a benign condition that basically means her nervous system is underdeveloped. Our pediatrician told us it would fix itself in the next month or two. And you know what?! She was right. Right about when Finley was two months old I noticed that I hadn't seen any twitching for awhile. And she has been healthy and fine ever since.

I recognize that that was not the most interesting post on this ol' blog. But it did lend itself to multiple life lessons.
1. You've GOT to advocate for your kid. If YOU think something is off, you do what it takes to find answers. You are the parent and you know your kid better than anyone else. I pushed to let Finley be seen that day and I'm so thankful I did. I really didn't care that I was perhaps coming across as a hyper-concerned momma bear. Our co-pay that day was $85 but it was the best $85 we could have spent because it gave us peace of mind that everything was going to be okay.
2. DO NOT DO YOUR OWN INTERNET RESEARCH. :) Due to my experience with Bennett, I had learned that doing my own internet research would only increase my anxiety. So I stayed away from all google search bars and it was the best decision.
3. We are so thankful everything checked out. And we know that Finley will likely experience things that are far more traumatic than this incident. Either way, this was the beginning of her story. We are thankful for the nurses who first noticed the twitching, the lactation consultant who encouraged me to seek out more answers, and the pediatrician who put our minds at ease.
4. Finley is not MINE. She was given to us by our Lord and Savior and, during the week that I thought something very serious was wrong with her, I had to remind myself over and over that, as a parent, one of the best things I could do for her is to keep giving her back to the Lord.

I promise the next post will be more inspiring or at least entertaining, but this was part of my story and I didn't want to leave it out. Thanks, faithful ones, for reading.

Pre Post-Partum Preparations

It's no secret that my post-partum experience with Bennett was an absolute train wreck. Go back and have a read if you're able. I've never pretended that I have it all together and that post only confirms my general messiness.

But the beauty in that post and, I hope, the beauty in the next few weeks and months is that that part of me has been redeemed. When I wrote it 20 months ago, I remember thinking, "If one momma is encouraged by this, that's enough." I was blown away by the women who reached out to me for months after that post with their own story. The power of "me too" was tremendous and I'm forever grateful that though I was at the bottom, I overcame and the Lord completely used the pain for good.

ALL THAT to say, I'm about to enter the post-partum phase again. During post-partum round one, I had many thoughts like "guess I'll only have one baby" or "there's no way I'm doing this again" or "how does anyone have more than one kid?!" I'm officially 37 weeks and 5 days pregnant with baby #2, so I was obviously able to overcome those thoughts.

What I want to share with you is how I'm preparing for entering a season that was so dark 26 months ago. Why? Because something tells me there's someone out there who is terrified of having baby #2 for the same reasons I was. Let me be real: I'm not on the other side of post-partum yet, of course, but I am preparing for it much more intentionally than before round one.

Let's get logistical.

I literally already have a script from my doctor for anti-anxiety meds. I kid you not when I say that I will get it filled before we leave the hospital. Why? Because I know myself. And I know my hormones are going to hit the fan and splatter everywhere (how's that for graphic?) the minute sweet baby girl is born. Perhaps I could try a few weeks sans the meds but WHY? When I was trying to wean myself off the meds in preparation of getting pregnant for the second time, a girlfriend told me to see them as one of the Lord's miracles. I could fight the anxiety hard core, but it would be mostly a losing battle. OR I could raise my hand and say, "Hi. I'm Heidi. I struggle with anxiety and need medication to help when my hormones are FREAKING THE FREAK OUT." And that's fine.

I met with a nurse from the breastfeeding clinic a few months ago. I rehashed my story through tear-filled eyes. Girls. I have told my nursing story to countless people and never get choked up about it, but for some reason, that day the emotions were REAL. But she was so encouraging. So, yes, we will try nursing again. If it doesn't work again, holla pump! And once I tire of that, holla formula!

The fall is when I'm the best version of myself. Always has been. Summer is historically hard. Those simple facts make me hopeful. Bennett will still go to daycare in the mornings while I'm on maternity leave and I have beautiful visions of taking little miss on morning walks and just enjoying the crisp air - my soul will undoubtedly need it.

I have an ARMY of prayers. I know I did last time as well, but I didn't reach out to them soon enough. Friends, I've already sent out my first SOS text. I firmly believe it takes a village to raise a child, but I also believe it takes a village to help a momma with a newborn. So, village, thank you in advance for being there. You know who you are.

In a month or two, I hope to update you on this journey. You know I'll be real. You can prematurely brace yourselves.

As always, if you're a new momma in the throes of life with a newborn, I see you, girl. Please don't fight alone. You are far too precious to go through this season in isolation. Reach out, friend. I got you.

Before Baby #2

There is so much to write before baby girl makes her appearance. And I've been paralyzed by all the swirling thoughts until recently when I realized that the thoughts are just going to get more swirly unless I just start writing.  So with this post, I have no goal. There is no "one topic" or theme. Rather, this is a compilation of my mind in these final weeks of being an oven for a very active little girl.

On friends:
After every experience with my girlfriends, I am reminded just how precious friends are and how worth it it really is to make friends and be a good friend. Last Friday night my equally-as-pregnant friend and I sat on the bathroom floor while we bathed our toddlers. Neither of us were comfortable but watching our tots pour water on each other and squeal with delight while we sat on the hard tile floor will undoubtedly be filed away in our minds and hearts for years to come.

At a recent girls night, we were all able to agree that this season of life is so sweet. And so hard. We swapped stories of our birthing experiences and our growing families. And we were able to agree that a phrase we say to our husbands almost nightly is: "Should we watch another episode or just go to bed?"

These are precious moments.

On being pregnant for the second time:
This pregnancy has been so different from the first. Baby girl moves constantly which is equally reassuring and exhausting. I'm basically in pain all the time. Womp womp. And, because I strive to be authentic on this little blog, I'll admit something so disturbing to you. I've gained 10 pounds in the last two weeks. HOW DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN. I've decided it's all baby. Let's just leave it at that.

I'm in that funky part of a pregnancy when I want her to keep growing because a bigger baby will eat better and sleep better so obviously that's more pleasant in the long run. HOWEVER, I'm at the end of my rope physically. I'm sore, tired, yada yada, all the things that are standard for the final few weeks. My sub plans for maternity leave are set so she could come anytime now, but I have such a killer plan of when she should come and when I will return back to school that it's fine if she wants to hang out inside for a few more weeks. Whatevs. We're about to cross that finish line (I'm 37 weeks now and she's measuring big, so anytime now is safe).

On the toddler no longer being my baby:Oh this one I have shed many tears over. I think he's ready for the transition. I mean, as ready as a two year old ever is for something that is going to turn his world upside down. We talk about the baby being in mommy's tummy though he is occasionally still convinced the baby is in his tummy. Someday we'll break it to him that his tummy won't ever hold a baby.

We talk about the baby's room (he's now in his big boy room with a queen-sized bed because, holla, that's what we had). We talk about how the baby is his little sister and is a girl. I've tried to have him say her name with minimal success. Daniel has threatened to not tell me the name of our next child though I have reminded him that we split the naming duty 50/50 so that's unfortunately not an option.

Bennett is his daddy's sidekick and will spend hours in the garage standing on the 'yadder' while Dan builds things. I think this is the Lord's way of preparing us all for the transition. I envision many evening and weekend hours where my boys will be fixing things in the garage while little miss and I do what newborns and mommas do. And this vision is oh so sweet to me.

I know we could read a million books to "help him prepare for the transition" and that's all good and fun. But I also know that, as a two year old, nothing will make it as real to him as when it actually happens. So I'm praying daily that (1) he will feel so loved in the midst of bringing a baby home and (2) that he will be such a great big brother to his baby sister. I know we'll have our moments, but I'm choosing to be extremely hopeful about the fall.

I have had many moments of "mommy-guilt" as I finish out this pregnancy. Am I spending enough intentional time with Bennett? Am I remembering every single second and loving it all ? Am I doing it right? And you know what conclusion I've come to? I'm doing the best I can. We will make it to the other side. Even if that means Bennett watches WAY more Thomas than I ever thought possible and if I spend more hours on the cough than anywhere else. It'll be okay. This is a season and this too, shall pass, and Bennett will be resilient.

On writing:
I love writing. So very very much. Due to the constant swirling of my mind, writing is a way to help me make sense of all the things. I've never asked this question but I sense the need to ask it. What would you like me to write about? I've been at a loss as of lately but my mind and my heart miss it. Give me a little feedback.

Perhaps the next time we chat I'll have a tiny human next to me rather than inside me. I miss you, dear readers. Let's chat again soon.

Toddlering

Today I posed a question on the ol' Facebox.  I asked for activities to do during the winter with an 18 month old.  And I requested that my Facebox friends be my own personal Pinterest, if you will.  Because ain't nobody got time fo dat.  Pinterest, that is.  [Love me some Pinterest, but my input (#1 strength, holla) mind can absolutely NOT handle the overload of information.]

Approximately 60 seconds after I posed my question, I seriously considered taking it down.  Only because I was annoying myself with answers I thought people would give (we all know the interwebz can be an obnoxious place). I told myself that if I was going to be this critical of answers not even given yet, it wasn't going to be worth my mental energy.  So I navigated my way to the post and saw the first several responses.  And my friends were full of good ideas!  So I told my mind to take a hike and left the post alone.  Several hours later, the post is loaded with oodles of ideas.

We all know I'm type-A.  The post was screaming at me for some quality organization.  So I did what any self-respecting desperate mom of a toddler in the winter would do.  And I organized the ideas.  For me.  And for YOU!  So have at it.  I know I will.

Some Monies:
> Small plastic slide to keep inside - B's bestie has one like this and he's borderline obsessed with it
> Cozy coupe - we got ours for free from a friend last year and it's still one of Bennett's favorite things.  We keep it in hiding and pull it out a few times a week.  It's always a hit.
> Membership somewhere with an indoor pool - we're totally looking into this

Less Monies:
> Coloring books - I like to give B only a few crayons at a time...otherwise he gets overwhelmed with all the crayons and ends up trying to eat them...so that's fun.
> Sticker books - or just give them pieces of tape.  Because sometimes this momma is cheap.
> Color wonder  - a great option with minimal mess
> Play-doh - this momma will need to to take some deep breaths leading up to this one.
> Window clingy things - what kid wouldn't love these?
> Coloring on windows with Expo markers - I'm NOT AT ALL STRESSED about this one.  On opposite day. #hello1995  JK.  I'm actually really excited about this one.
> Pretend painting with water and tiny brushes (we did this today...HUGE hit with the little man)
> Bin of dried rice or beans - add fun small toys to it and it's an instant scavenger hunt (we have yet to do this, but it's inched high on our list)
> Water beads - I don't have experience with these, but the ladies who know say they're super
> Or an edible version 
> Balloons - keeping those suckers off the ground and other such activities you can do with balls of air
> Reusable sticker pad - I have high hopes for this bad boy.  Would have been a great gift idea for Christmas!
> Bring snow in (come ON, Kansas, get it TOGETHER) and give them water color paints - paint in big bowls or pans

No Monies:
> "Washing" dishes - a glass of wine may or may not be necessary prior to this one :)
> Move toys to different rooms - change is good.  Change is happy.
> Pack up most of the toys and bring out "new" ones periodically.  We do this all the time.  What!?  I didn't know I had alphabet magnets!  And a Cozy Coupe!?  Best day ever.  Every day.
> Toilet paper rolls, paper towel rolls, wrapping paper rolls, milk jugs, empty medicine bottles - gigantor wrapping paper rolls are way popular at this house...as are Amazon boxes and the packing materials that come in Amazon boxes
> Straws.  That is all.  Benz has the time of his life with straws.
> No-bath bath - books and cars in the bath - this one could be epic
> "Bowling" with bottles of water - think this could be doable with a little little with some modeling (#teacher)
> Pots and pans and spoons - we do this about every other week.  It's loud and pretty ridiculous, but entertaining as well
> "Painting" bath - squirt of soap/shampoo, spoonful of cornstarch and a drop of food coloring - this will, no doubt, be awesome
> Dance party - Benny's dance moves consist of bending his knees and moving like a robot...classic.

So that's that.  Our little one has been boycotting naps all week, so these ideas come at just the right time. I'm a horrible "player with littles," so some structured ideas are helpful for me.  Perhaps you will receive some inspiration as well. And some camaraderie knowing that maybe, just maybe, you're not the only one trying to figure out how to fill your time with your tiny human who can't quite carry on a conversation.  Bring on tomorrow!

Hi, first-year teacher!

About this time every year I get all nostalgic.  Maybe it's the rainbow of colors out my window due to the leaves changing.  Maybe it's the cooler temperatures reminding me it won't be hot and humid and nasty forever.  But probably it's because I remember how I felt about this time 5 years ago when I had just finished my first quarter of my first year of teaching. I read this article last week and felt prompted to give my two cents to first-year teachers.  So whether you are a first-year teacher knee-deep neck-deep in all things school or you are a veteran teacher feeling like you're on the verge of becoming cynical and crotchety, my hope is that you feel encouraged after reading this.

I can split my first year of teaching into 4 distinct time frames:
1st quarter: You guys, I literally had no idea what was going on.  Ever.  I arrived at work by 6:45 every morning and stayed until at least 5 or 5:30, but looking back, I have no clue how I was even spending my time.  I rested Friday night and Saturday, but after lunch on Sunday, the rest of my day was spent doing school stuff (oh, and crying...always lots of crying).  My stellar mentor teacher shared her entire drive of files with me just to give me a head start and I had a kind freshman teacher who gave me her weekly plans every single week since I DIDN'T HAVE A CLUE how to lesson plan.  It's like I hadn't just spent five years (yes, 5) preparing to be a teacher. I pulled my hair in front of the students, cried most days on my way home, and regularly asked my worst class dumb questions like, "Kids, what am I doing wrong? Why are you treating me this way?"  It was rough.

2nd quarter:  I was well into my third or fourth unit with both my classes, so I was beginning to develop a rhythm.  A friend and I started taking a yoga class twice a week which enabled me to not only leave before the sun set every day, but also provided me a time to literally just breathe.  Oh, I should also mention, I still didn't like what I was doing, ha. Nope, not at all.  I dreaded going to work every day and prayed all through December that we would get a snow day (spoiler alert - didn't happen).

(Not feeling encouraged? It gets better, promise).

3rd quarter:  While I still didn't enjoy going to work, I at least was beginning to feel a bit more confident.  I didn't have a 6th hour from hell any longer and the regularity of colleagues asking for my hall pass had slowed down (I teach at a large school, so being confused for a student was a common occurrence).  We had 5 snow days this quarter (of course I would remember that...I was praying for 25 snow days).

4th quarter: At this point, summer was within reach and all I had to do was knuckle down and make it.  I didn't yell at my students near as much (because, let's face it, when is that ever effective?!). I definitely found a rhythm to my everyday.  But mostly, I knew that I only had to survive a few more months before a clean slate.

Phew, you made it.  Looking back, I can laugh about it, but, I see you, first-teacher teacher, crying every day.  And I get that it's not funny, yet.

I can honestly say that I love my job now.  I really do.  But I could not have said that during my first four years.

After two years in the general English classroom, I decided, for a myriad of reasons, that gen ed English was not my happy place.  Not by a long-shot.  I wasn't ready to throw in the education towel, so I hopped over to special education.  And that, my friends, still wasn't my happy place for two years.  It was better, but not "I LOVE MY JOB. EVERYONE QUIT WHAT YOU'RE DOING AND JOIN ME" awesome. It was just fine for two years.

Let's talk about what shifted.

I had a baby and I TOOK A CHILL PILL (figuratively and literally, but we don't need to talk about the literally, ha - check out this post to understand why).

Now, this isn't me saying, "Go have a baby; it'll fix everything!"  Stop that. Don't be silly.  It won't fix everything.

Friends, it's all about perspective.

What is the hardest part about your job right now?  My answer to that question early on was that I was overwhelmed with such large classes and I felt like I wasn't meeting individual needs.  When I switched to special education, my answer was that I was bored.  I fixed that by changing how I taught.  It helped immensely to have a new curriculum handed to us - nothing boring about teaching something brand new every day!

So, sweet first-year teacher - what IS the hardest part about your job? Answer that question and then try to fix it.  Now, impressionable friend, do not, I repeat, DO NOT go down the rabbit-trail of "well if the administration would just do this" or "if my students were just different" or "if I didn't have to teach this."  Yada, yada.  There are a million things we don't have control of (that has nothing to do with teaching, but has everything to do with LIFE).  We can't fix a bazillion of our issues, but we can control ourselves.

You probably have lots of things bothering you as a first-year teacher (and that's okay!).  Be bothered - it's what makes you passionate!  But don't be bothered to the point that you burn out.  Ask for stinkin help.  You surely have a colleague down the hall a call or email away from handing you everything you could possibly need to plan the next quarter's worth of lessons.  Just ask.  We're teachers.  We love teaching. :)

This is getting all mumbly jumbly.  Gah, I just love you so much and think you're awesome and don't want you to quit just because you don't have it all figured out.  I'm six years in and I still have days I don't know what I'm going (I'm guessing teachers who have taught for much longer would say the same). We just have more teaching tools in our toolbox.  I guarantee you're adding to your toolbox every single day.  And the first day you get the chance to pull from that toolbox in a spur of the moment lesson will be the best day ever.  Because it will mean you're gonna make it.

Fight through this first year.  Every day might be a struggle, but you'll make it.  And you'll come out even stronger.  And no matter how much you think you're jacking up these kids, just remember: kids are crazy resilient.  They'll come out fine.  I promise it's going to be okay.

PS - if you seriously are struggling with the ins and outs of every day, please reach out to me if you don't feel like you have anyone.  I have a crap-ton of resources that can be modified to whatever level you kids are.  I got your back, friend.