Transparency is the Best Policy

     As I sit down to write this, I realize that my day began over 16 hours ago.  The alarm rang out at 5:30 am, and I realized it was the first time since March that my alarm had been set that early.  Today was the first day in 5 months that I returned to work in my actual building.  And it was hard.  Like really hard.  I cried, felt angry, and even scared.  It is a difficult and emotional time for those of us in education right now.  Trying to figure out how to balance your responsibilities at work, while trying to make sure that your responsibilities at home are being taken care of is not an easy task.  Throw in the worry and concern for the students who are facing unimaginable things at home and the fear of contracting a deadly virus, and it becomes overwhelming.  

     If you would have told me back then that in 5 months our world would be something that none of us could even imagine, I wouldn't have believed you, or at least not to the extent that it is now.  I could not have imagined trying to teach to young children through a computer screen when everything I have been taught says at this age learning should be play-based.  But here we are.  

    But the most pain and heartache I felt today was for my own child.  It finally hit me today that I would have to be out of the house every day, and my oldest two would be home all day while doing remote learning.  When I left work for lunch, I finally broke down.  I felt as though I was being ripped apart and pulled in half.  My middle, the only boy, has high functioning Autism.  He struggled last Spring when we went to remote learning.  I struggled to help him.  He was smart enough to figure out how to cheat the system and make it look to me as though he had completed work when in turn he really hadn't.  He frustrated me and his teacher.   

    Scenarios of how his school year would look began to fill my head.  Not only is remote a really hard (and bad) option for him, but he's also starting a new school this year.  The uncertainty of that already has him feeling uneasy.  And as his mama, I just want to take that all away from him.

    So we had a very mature talk, and he knows the expectations of him.  He knows that he has to be responsible for himself and his education.  He knows and understands that his older sister will be unavailable due to having her own classes to attend.  And I will remain positive that he can do this and will steer him in the right direction.  Because really, at this point it is all I can do.

    I heard something today during one of our meetings that has resonated with me.  I have heard the saying before, but it's so applicable right now.  You can't always control what happens to you, but you can control how you react to it.  At this moment, I am choosing to control how I react.  My emotions are valid.  But my perspective on the events can change if I decide that I am going to react in a way that is opposite of my emotions.  My situation may seem dire to me, but I know that there are parents and families who are suffering much more than we are during this time.   

    I encourage you, parents and educators, that we will all get through this together.  Our district's motto this year is Stronger Together, and I truly believe in that principle.  We are stronger together, so let's all remember that as we navigate these unchartered waters.

Love you so much!

-jennifer

    

We Are the Thomas Five (plus five)

    As families go, my immediate family (husband, kids, pets) is extremely close.  We love to play games together, laugh together, pick on each other, and love on each other.  Some of the best memories that we have together are times that we were all laughing together hysterically.  Humor is a large part of who we are.  This also means we don't take things too seriously and tend to find the humor in just about any situation.  We make up words to popular songs and sign them obnoxiously loud....well, maybe that one is just me!!  But there was a time, fairly recently, when our world was turned upside down, and humor was hard to come by.

    For 9 years, we were a family of 4.  Our teenager was born in the fall of 2005, the middle son in the winter of 2009, and the baby came along in the early spring of 2018.  She was quite a surprise for us!              

    Trying to conceive the middle son proved to be difficult at first.  I was put on fertility drugs and ended up having a miscarriage due to an emergency gallbladder removal before I even knew I was pregnant.  Within a couple months of that, we found out we were pregnant and were so excited.  It all happened naturally and just the way it was supposed to be.

    When middle son was only a year old, I began to ache and long for another child.  We had barely been a family of 4 for a year, yet I couldn't help but feel like something (or someone) was missing.  We decided that we would continue to try naturally, and if we were blessed with another child, then it was meant to be.

    Fast forward 8 years to August of 2017.  We had pretty much given up on any chance of us welcoming another child.  The husband was in the process of getting the referral for a vasectomy and we had peace about the decision.  Then one morning I woke up, had worked out before work, and just felt like I wanted to puke!  The whole house was still asleep and I had this thought of, could I be pregnant?  I ran to the local drug store, bought a test, and raced back home.

    As I waited for that test to say pregnant or not pregnant, a million things were running through my mind.  I was in my second year at a new job, the older two were independent and able to take care of themselves for the most part, and we enjoyed our diaper-free life.  When I looked down and saw PREGNANT, I didn't know whether I should laugh or cry!  I went and woke up my husband and I think he thought that I was joking.  

    Even though I was happy, I remained in shock for a very long time.  Like I said, we had made peace with not having any more children and this news was wreaking havoc on my emotions....or maybe that was the pregnancy!  Either way, I would put on a happy face for those around me, but inside, I was a jumbled mess of emotions and doubt.  Could we afford another child?  What about daycare, and formula, and diapers?  Was it worth it for me to keep working?  I had a million questions that I couldn't find the answers for.

    Then around week 28, things began to change.  I was told at an ultrasound appointment that my fluid was low and the baby was small.  I continued to have ultrasound after ultrasound and they were all the same.  My fluid was getting lower and lower, the baby was not growing very much.  Eventually, I had to do weekly non-stress tests.  

    It was a Sunday morning.  The husband was volunteering at our church that morning and the teenager was singing with her youth choir.  I was heading to the hospital for my weekly test and told them I'd see them at home later.  But this test kept dragging out longer and longer.  The on-call doctor came in and it was at that point that I knew the test wasn't going well.  He did an ultrasound and told me that my fluid level was too low to sustain proper breathing functions and I would have my c-section right away.

    Having been through one c-section already, I wasn't worried about that.  But my parents lived hours away, and couldn't make it in time.  Thankfully my best friend took the older two for the day so that my husband could be with me.  On March 25, 2018, at 1:45 pm the baby of the family was born.  And she was perfect!  A healthy 6lb, 15 oz baby girl!

    Everything was going so well for us, and two days later I was released to go home.  But quickly after I was home, I knew something was wrong.  I felt dizzy and like the whole room around me was spinning. I called the hospital and they told me to come back.  When I arrived, they took my blood pressure and it was 100/180.  I was immediately diagnosed with postpartum preeclampsia.  It happened so fast. When I left the hospital earlier that day my pressure was 75/115.  Near perfect.

    I spent two days in the hospital, by myself, without my family or my newborn.  And I was scared for my life.  My liver numbers were elevated, my pressure wouldn't come down.  The magnesium drip was making me feel awful.  And I was oh so very anxious.  I needed drugs to get any kind of sleep.

    I was able to leave after two days, and with two prescription medications for high blood pressure.  They helped keep my pressures down which was good.  But I was required to test my pressure at home twice a day to make sure that it was staying down or not going too low.  Doing this caused me anxiety and I became obsessed with my health and my blood pressure.  

    When I look back now, I cannot believe the person that I became in just 1 short month.  I don't recognize her.  She was a pacing, nervous, googling mess!  As any new parent knows, I wasn't sleeping more than an hour at a time, I was taking blood pressure meds that were depleting all my vitamins and minerals, and I started to suffer from anxiety and insomnia.  No matter what I tried I couldn't fall asleep.  I would get just about there, and my body would jerk awake.  I went 3 days with no sleep, and I had a mild panic attack and was taken to the hospital because I couldn't settle down.

     I was given a prescription for Ativan for my anxiety.  I made the decision to only take it at night for sleep because after all, I did have three kids to care for.  But because it was segmented, "fake" sleep, my body didn't have the time it needed to repair itself and I spiraled further and further into anxiety.

    I lost a ton of weight because my stomach always hurt and I was never hungry.  I would see people I hadn't seen in months and they would tell me how great I looked.  All I could think about was how horrible I felt on the inside.  At one point my doctor prescribed me an anti-depressant, but after taking one pill, I had the most horrible dreams and thoughts while I was awake, that I didn't take another pill.  

    Instead, I started doing lots of research on vitamins and minerals (probably a little too much since I was so obsessive about it), and I found a combination that eventually helped level me out.  Everything that I read about postpartum anxiety and depression said that it could take over a year to feel back to normal.  And they are right.  When I went back to work and we got back into somewhat of a routine, that helped.  But it did take time.

    Now, 28 months after having that sweet baby, I am definitely back to my pre-baby self.  I knew that I was getting healthier when one day I was blaring music and being silly and dancing in the kitchen.  I was worried that I would be that anxious forever.  Don't get me wrong, I still get anxious about things, more than I used to, but I can recognize that in myself and I can usually talk myself down from the ledge.  I also went to a counselor and was open and honest with friends and family. I think that helped me tremendously.  

    If you have been through or are going through something similar, I encourage you to find someone to talk to about it.  There is no shame in feeling anxious or depressed.  It is more than likely caused by chemical imbalances in your body that you have no control over.  I am always here to chat if you need that!

    So that's how we became The Thomas Five (plus five including the pets)!  And now that all of that is in the past, we can enjoy that perfect little human that was missing.  She completes our family and has us belly laughing daily!!

Love you so much!

-jennifer

Passion in the Fire

    Wed-nes-day.  If I were going to spell this word the way that it sounds it would look like Windsday.  So, happy Windsday!  If I wasn't an educator who was bound by the laws of education to spell things correctly, I'd choose to write it like that every time!  But I digress.

    Four years ago, I was called up quite unexpectedly and offered a job.  The timing of it all was quite unbelievable as my husband and I had just had a conversation about me looking for a part-time job.  Something that I could do while the kids were at school.  The position happened to be at my children's school and was the same hours that they would be there.  It couldn't have been more perfect of a job for me.  And this job has since led me to the realization that being an Educator of little people is all that I ever wanted to be.  It just took me 35 years to figure it out.  

    I am currently 40 credit hours into a Bachelor's degree in Early Childhood Education.  I will be in my early forties (maybe even mid) by the time I actually achieve my degree.  The hopes of me being able to retire with a teacher's pension are probably slim.  I will start at the bottom of the ladder on the pay scale.  I will have zero seniority and the twenty-something down the hall will likely know more than me.  But none of those reasons are why I am pursuing this.  

    When I was in high school, my Freshman English teacher left a lasting impression on me.  It was about that time that I also watched Dead Poet's Society for the first time.  That movie evoked feelings in me that I cannot even begin to describe.  I developed a passion for all things English....poetry, reading, writing...the list goes on and on.  And at that moment I decided I wanted to do something in that field.  

    When I was accepted into a popular, local University that had an amazing Journalism department, I was overwhelmed.  I had decided that if I wanted to write, make a difference in the world, and actually have a steady income, then Journalism was the way to go.  What I hadn't planned on, was my lack of moral compass at the time and need for acceptance to overtake my ability to stay focused on my end goal.  Though my time at Mizzou may have been brief, it was a learning experience.  It taught me that Journalism was not my true passion.  And so began my decade and a half long journey into finding myself.

    I was married young, 22, and within a year we were growing our family.  My focus became on raising my family and caring for my home.  Any dreams that I had for my future career became a distant memory.  Until I decided to take a leap of faith, and enroll in school again at the age of 38

    This past term in school, I took Philosophy of Education.  I was given the opportunity to create my Educational Philosophy.  I must admit that it was something I hadn't given much thought up to that point.  But as I gathered up things from my past that had led me to that very moment, I realized that there were so many things in my life that had brought me to that moment, and had developed my Educational Philosophy.  Here is an excerpt from that paper:

        "For me, education is extremely important.  But not just education of the mind.  Education of the heart is also important as we are teaching our future leaders and they need to also understand the areas of empathy, compassion and understanding.  My educational philosophy looks something like this; to educate not only the mind but also the heart and develop a well-rounded citizen of the community.  I want to be the type of teacher who cares about each and every student and understands their background and the environment that they come from.  I want to be the type of teacher that focuses on getting children all the services they need and making sure each child has the same opportunity to become successful. I want to be the type of teacher who understands that most children are seeking acceptance and love.  And if I let them, the most difficult and unexpected students can be the ones to bring the greatest joy and happiness."

    In this current climate, my heart, mind, and soul are being torn in a million different directions.  I long to be back in a classroom with the sweet faces that bring me so much joy.  I hurt for those children who have been suffering for the last few months because their circumstances are beyond anything that we can imagine.  But I am scared.  Scared of the stigma that brings because I am willing to face sickness, possibly even death to be able to just do what brings so much joy and passion to my life.  Scared that this is the choice I am having to make; having an impact on the lives of the children of tomorrow or my own health, my own family.  

    This post is not meant to be political or to cause dissent amongst us.  Please, please, please understand that.  I know this is heavy for my second post.  But it is real and raw, and that is all that I want this to be.  It is my own inner struggle...probably the same one or similar to what you are feeling as well.  

    We must all understand that there are two sides to EVERY SINGLE situation.  Nothing is just black and white. There are greys and bright colors intertwined into it all.  You can be sad and scared at the same time.  Your heart can want one thing but your mind another.  We cannot be closed-minded and see only one side.  We must live with compassion, with empathy, and most of all with the love of our neighbor.

Get outside and enjoy the day!

Love you so much!

-jennifer    

     

    

I Think This is The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship

    For as long as I can remember, writing has been a part of who I am.  From the Young Author's stories I wrote as an Elementary and Middle School Student, to the deep and meaningful poetry that I wrote as an angsty teenager, writing has been an outlet for me to escape into a world that feels far removed from reality.  So now, as a 30-something adult, with more responsibilities than I can even count, I decided that I needed to find that outlet again to just keep my own sanity.  Anybody else feeling this way lately?  No, just me???

    I decided to consult my family when I was deciding on a name for this blog.  My brain seems to be less and less of a well-oiled machine lately and more of a decomposing compost bin full of yesterday's old trash.  See why the outlet feels more and more like a necessity?

    My oldest, who we will just call teenager for now, immediately spat out our youngest's favorite phrase right now.  And it felt so fitting.  But a blog title that is just known as "Love You So Much" felt as though it was lacking something.  So my family also suggested adding the "and Other Stuff".  Voila.  It was a few minute-long process that resulted in the eventual name for this blog.  Mind you, I had been brainstorming ideas and possible names for weeks.  Leave it to them to help me solve my problem in mere minutes.

    I can always count on my family for finding ways of showing me a reality that I cannot see on my own.  The five of us, we are all so different, and yet so alike, in so many ways.  Our different views and perspectives make for some interesting and sometimes heated discussions on everyday topics.  Given the current Pandemic and all that involves, the conversations have been bittersweet as of late.  It has me longing for the days of less dramatics and more fun.  But these serious discussions, revelations, and open-ended conversations have shown me more about myself and those closest to me than I would ever have imagined. 

    A short two years ago, our family that had become so comfortable with the number 4, was blessed with a fifth member.  The crazy toddler, as we all now refer to her, has brought more joy and happiness into these 4 lives than we can even handle.  She was definitely the missing link to our chain and the best little red-headed, firecracker of a surprise this side of the Mississippi!  Since then, our lives have changed quite a bit, but the bonds that our family had have grown tighter and stronger.

    Many years ago, I started a different blog about my middle child, my other red-head.  Our son was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder at the age of 2, and that blog centered around life as a mommy of a child who has ASD.  The first few years with him were hard.  I shed more tears in those few years than I have the rest of my entire life.  He was physical, non-verbal, and full of anger.  I'm not going to sugar coat any of it.  It was hard.  I spent hours squeezing his little body while he hit and kicked and bit me all to protect everyone else. Parenting that child for those years was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life.  Period. 

    I intend for this blog to become a daily conversation with myself.  You can join in too if you like!  But I realize that the more confusion I feel, and as the stress that accompanies that continues to grow, it's now more than ever that I need to do this.  Mostly for myself, but also for you, my readers, so that you may know that you are not alone in this crazy world of adulting, and learning, and parenting if that might be the case.  I invite you to take this journey with me.  I implore you to find something that allows you your own outlet.  And I insist that you have dance parties in your kitchen at least once a day!

Enjoy your day.  

Love you so much!

-jennifer