I Love My Job.

"You started your new job."

It wasn't a question; it was a statement.
When I went to Buffalo Wild Wings to meet some Warriorland friends for drinks after work last Friday, our regular waitress came up to the table, looked right at me, and said, "You started your new job."

I figured she had figured it out since I had been absent from B-Dubs for the past few weeks, or maybe one of the other girls had mentioned it, so I just laughed it off and said, "Yes I have."

"You look good. I haven't seen you smile like that before."

I was floored. I smile a lot. Quite often, really. Most people would tell you they rarely see me without a smile...and here this woman was, whom I see on a weekly basis for a few hours, who feeds me, saying that she hasn't seen my smile.

I asked her what she meant, and apparently she knew that I was bewildered because she quickly started to correct herself.

"Normally when you come in here, you have this exhausted smile that tells me that it's Friday. You laugh at rude jokes and the dumb things your children do; you don't laugh at happy things. Today, you walk in here and you look like you actually slept last night. You're not growling out your drink order and you gave me a hug when you walked in. You started your new job."

While I waited for my friends to show up, I thought about it--did my last job really turn me into another person? Were my roommates not over-reacting every time they left the room when I walked in the door?

As my Warriorland friends came in, I looked at them. They were smiling, but they truly didn't have any pep in their step. Ten minutes into our conversation, they started raking their hands through their hair as they talked about their students and co-workers. One girl laid her head on the table and said, "I just can't deal with it anymore..."

I have been defeated before. I know the pain that giving up causes; even when you give up because you surely can't hang on any longer.
Did I feel defeated at my old job? Yes, absolutely. But I loved my job...I didn't see how the two could co-exist.

I started thinking about my job here at Wildcat Academy. I have very few complaints about it. But I realized that that constant struggle was no longer there.

I get out of bed now because I want to be here. I have people to really smile at in the hallway. I have a wonderful crowd of support who answers all of my dumb questions and who all enjoy and embrace my creativity. I am so truly thankful that I have started my new job.

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I wrote this back in February. Almost four months ago to the day. My feelings about this job hasn't changed. Is this job one of the hardest things I have ever done? Absolutely. Is it really hard work every single day? More than you can imagine. Do I still have a lot to learn? More than I can imagine.

But I still have that support system who makes me laugh now more than before. They listen to my ideas more than they used to. They are still embracing my creativity and I am so thankful to have them.

Yes, there were days that my kids drove me nuts and there were days that I swore I couldn't go back the next day because I was too exhausted and too worn out. But I kept going back. I kept falling in love with my job, and the books that I teach and the kids who I taught and the friends that I worked with.

As this semester is wrapping up, I am constantly reflecting on how this year was been a whole lot of unexpected events. But I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. I can't prove it, and I won't stake my life on it, but I think that the biggest reason that so much of this year happened the way that it did w as so that I could get the most out of this crazy, tragic, sometimes almost magic, awful, beautiful life.

Bring On The Day.

I have had many times in my life that I have walked away from saying, "If I can live through that, I can live through anything." It never fails that shortly after this time has ended and I am steady on my feet again something else comes along that requires as much, if not more, strength as I have in my power.

Today was my first day at my new school. I woke up an hour and half after I planned on (thankfully I was planning on being there SUPER early), but this meant that I did not have time to shower--helloooo baby powder and extra deodorant. I then couldn't find my make-up bag so I went to make all of my first impressions looking rather homely, if I do say so myself.

I came to campus to find out that my schedule had been changed (the one class that I literally had planned from Day 1 to Day 90 was of course the one that got scratched), I could not make any of the necessary copies for my "first day" forms, no one was sure if I was going to get textbooks for my new class, and I have ZERO storage space for my classroom's worth of teacher stuff that I brought over from Warriorland to Wildcat Kingdom.

After a three-hour meeting in the morning, I locked myself in the faculty restroom and had myself a really, really long cry (guess it's a good thing I didn't have on make up!) followed by a quick lunch run to Panera for a famous cinnamon roll--calories don't count when you're stressed, right?

Towards the end of the day, one of my assistant principals called me into his office and apologized for the abrupt schedule change and told me to take heart in the fact that he wouldn't have done this to me if he didn't think that I could handle it.

I laughed in my head. This guy doesn't know me. He's never been in my classroom. He has no idea if I'm even a competent teacher. He gave me something because "I could handle it." What a joke.

I have a very large collection of music on iTunes. One of my favorite CDs on there is the "Sweet Home Alabama" soundtrack. It puts all kinds of pep in your step and it's a great listen if you're on the go or need something to jam to in your car. One of my favorite songs on the album is called "Bring On the Day". The singer talks about being on her way no matter what it takes and she's going to survive it come hell or high water.

Story of my life, right?

This semester might be another one of those times that it will take everything in me to survive it, but I will. My kids might not get my highest ranked performance every day, but they'll walk away knowing something. I might not be the gold medalist this go 'round, but Lord knows I'm gonna try.

Maybe my assistant principal was right, after all.


"Watch out world, 'cause here I come and I can't stop 'til I'm done..."

Help a Girl Out...

Okay.

Confession.

I am the kind of girl that will read anything that you put in front of me. That being said, with my limited time,  I like to devote my very, very few leisure hours to things that are worth my time.

That being said, I'm a skeptic to devote an entire weekend to the adventures of Katniss Everdeen.

(via)

I currently have all three books in my possession (Emily, you will be reunited with them eventually...), but I'm not sure if they're worth my time.

Two of my roommates have read them (and I am the ONLY reader in this house) so that should be enough to convince me, but I'm just not sure.

Someone give me a straight answer and back it up with evidence:

Should I, or should I not,  give "The Hunger Games" a shot?

Thank you for your time,
Reba.

January 3, 2012 {dinner with megan and roomie shout-out}

Today, I sped home--as fast as Outer Beltline rush hour traffic would let me--walked in my door, slammed said door, and then yelled to my roommates that "I hate my job."

The statement is not exactly true. I have the world's best students. But, I hate the politics that come along with teaching. I get that I work for the government...but leave me alone and let me do my job. Please and thank you.

Anyhow, I promptly texted one of my best friends, Megan, and begged for dinner out so that I could unload all of my teacher woes on to a fellow teacher and have some sympathy from another of the species. Being the beautiful, kind-hearted friend that she is, she met me a few hours later and let me unload.

When I say "unload" I mean "dump all of my crazy crap onto her lap with lots of gesticulating and sarcasm." Megan's good at taking my sass. She has been for a few years.

I remember the first time I had a conversation with Megan. It was during one of the many classes that we had together at NC State and she had to peer-edit my paper. Megan was the first person in the history of the world to give me legitimate and honest feedback on my writing. Most people just nod and call it a day. Megan bled all over my paper and then some. At first I was flabbergasted that someone didn't think that I was the next great American novelist...but then I realized that she was absolutely right about everything she said and she made me a better writer.

Now, three years later, I'm sure she would still be make me a better writer, but more importantly, she's making me a better person. Just by being there.

Megan and I ate some delicious pasta at Noodles & Co. and talked about life, our students, and our crazy co-workers for the next two hours.

This little piece of my blog is dedicated to my sweet friend who rarely arrives anywhere on time, was born a Yank but is a Southerner at heart, and who is truly a blessing in my life.

I took the liberty of giving Megan some love one night at the PR (a common hang-out for us LTN girls). This is one of my favorite pictures of all time.

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I was just going to give the blog post to Megan and call it a night, but I truly cannot dismiss the godsends that are my roommates.

After I ran into my house this afternoon and declared my unhappiness to all that could hear, I then did a fabulous rendition of "Hell Hath No Fury Like Rebekah" to Ava Michelle and Jamie.

After pacing around the house and huffing loudly to attempt to discharge all of my angst, I decided I needed to bake. Baking takes all of the woes out of life and turns the troubles into edible pieces of heaven.

Cookie Dough Truffles were the cure for this round of sorrows.

Except that I was out of ONE ingredient.

I couldn't run to the store because I had to meet Megan for dinner.

I exhaled even louder to attempt to purge this new misfortune and my roommates were alerted of the new evil in my life.

Jamie promptly arrived at my side with a piece of Godiva. If I couldn't make my own piece of heaven, certainly a piece of mass-manufacteured chocolate would do the trick!

Ava Michelle called Alecia and mentioned my anguish and Alecia stopped at the nearby Food Lion to get me a can of sweetened condensened milk.

When Alecia came home and handed me the small, Eagle Brand can, I let out a yelp and sent up a prayer of thanks for these sweet girls.

We proceeded to dance in the kitchen and tell stories and laugh and then eventually dove into the mouth-watering morsels of butter and chocolate...a girl's two best (culinary) friends.

Note: Kimberly, come home soon :)

January 2, 2012 {the borough}

Since this was my last day to sleep in before going back to school, there was not an alarm set in this house.

Once Milley woke me up, I headed downstairs and grabbed a stack of papers that needed to be graded. I'm happy to report that it's DONE. That's right, done. D-O-N-E. Done. I can't believe it myself. But I was so excited.

About 11 a.m. I asked one of my roomies if she had any plans for the evening, when she said she didn't, I replied that I would love a girls night out to commemorate Christmas Break 2011 and also to celebrate all of this grading being done.

We decided that downtown Raleigh was best and thanks to the ever-so-handy Google, we stumbled upon

The Borough. It had decently priced food and good cocktail list...table for four please!

Ava Michelle, Alecia, Jamie, and I headed downtown and into the quaint little restaurant. We were so pleased to find out that on Monday - Friday most appetizers are 1/2 off!

I had the Boomerang for an appetizer (you say 'spinach and mushrooms' and I come running!) and The Brute Squad for my entree.

They were both incredible.

I could eat the Boomerang with a spoon! If there had been any left after I had finished my chips, I would have! For the small prices, the portions were great!

They put some sort of wonderful spice mix on the french fries. There was not a fry left on the table.

And you'll notice there wasn't any Boomerang left either...

One note about The Brute Squad: it was delicious, but I ordered mine medium rare. I swore it moo-ed a few times as I bit in to it. May I suggest that you order yours "medium" when you go :)

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I don't want to spoil the excitement for anyone, but the bathrooms were out of this world. I loved the signs that designated which was "guys" and which was "gals"--you'll have to visit to see for yourself--but to top it off, this little guy was waiting for us in the soap dispenser.

I was concerned that I had drank my cocktail too fast (The Big Mama, for those of you that were curious--and yes, I'll be getting it again; the perfect blend of sweet and kicker) but thankfully Ava Michelle was my bathroom buddy and she confirmed that yes, indeed, there is a lion in the soap dispenser.

After a very productive day and a lovely dinner out with my roomies, we're all going to curl up on the couch to watch the season premiere of The Bachelor.

It's been the perfect way to send out Christmas 2011!

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You'll notice that I've added a new label to my collection: "restaurant reviews". The idea came up to make a roomie outing a weekly thing to explore this great city that we live in. If you're from the area, come on back every now and again and see what good eats we've stumbled across.

Also, if you have any suggestions as to where we should go, feel free to comment. We'll go and report back!

January 1, 2012

2012 started off a bang...and by "bang" I mean a low-grade fever. Isn't that awesome? I didn't make it to the acorn dropping, as is custom in my state, or to the TV to watch the ball in NYC drop. I was snoozing in the bed when the rest of the Eastern Time Zone was shooting off fireworks, kissing their beloveds, and drinking down some alcohol.

I allowed myself the privelege of sleeping in on the first day of 2012 because it was my second-to-last day to do it before school started back.

If you had walked in to "The Manor" as my house is lovingly called on January 1st, you would have thought that it was a mandated work day...

This is a picture of my dining room table.

I've kind of moved in.

Two boxes of papers to grade and a very long to-do list had me occupied all day January 1st.

It's really hard to complain about my job when you love it so much.

And I get two weeks off at Christmas.

Aren't you jealous?

Happy 2012, everybody :)

Temporary Strength.

My life seems to define the word "temporary" these days.

My job is "temporary" and will be over soon.
My time with my kiddos is "temporary".

My living situation is "temporary". One week I live in Raleigh, the next Wendell.

I am a completely Type A kind of girl. I have lists and plans and thrive on organized chaos. I hate not knowing where I'm going to be three paychecks from now. I hate not knowing what to do about my living situation come January.

Some days I want to be a teacher for the rest of my life. Some days I don't want to be a teacher for another minute. Even my decisions seem to be temporary!

Eden will only be a baby temporarily so I have to soak up her cuteness and her hugs and kisses as much as I can now.

My girls will only be in Raleigh temporarily because the next two years are going to fly by faster than the last two years did...and that makes my heart so heavy.

Everything is temporary.

And I am made for eternity.

Those two things don't exactly mix.

To move on to another tangent, the loneliness that is creeping into my soul is overwhelming.

I've said before that I don't have a best friend. I never have. I have lots of good friends, but I don't have that one person that I can call at any hours of the day, every day. Those girls that had that one friend in middle school that they spent every waking hour with...I used to make fun of them. I really did. I didn't get it. I liked knowing that I had A LOT of friends and not just one or two. A piece of me regrets not deeply investing now.

I sit in a room with eighty-eight children all day every day. I can only share a piece of myself with them. It would be wrong and unhealthy to find my identity in "being a teacher" because if that were true, then days like today--where they don't listen and don't care and are just all-out RUDE--would be the death of me. To have half conversations for almost five hours a day can wear out a soul. Especially when there is no one to help rejuvenate you.

You're probably wondering why I titled this post "Temporary Strength" if all I'm going to do is whine all night.

Well, people have always said that I'm a strong person. Some have said it for physical purposes, others for emotional, others for spiritual. I've always laughed because I don't see it. I see my flaws when I look introspectively. I see where I am lacking and what needs to be improved and I calculate how to do so.

It's hard. Every day.  The lack of genuine conversation. The lack of a true support group. The feeling of being the outsider or the third wheel.

I know I am blessed. I know I am supported. I know this...but knowing and feeling are two different things.

I am going to allow my lack of strength to take over for a moment, and I'm going to be weak and sink in humility for a second.

I need a support group to love me and encourage me. I need friends that love Jesus and can point me to Him. Friends that are present and in my life. And at a stage of life where my schedule is the exact opposite of everyone else's...that doesn't exist.
I need prayer so that I can desire and seek to be filled by Him instead of trying to find my identity elsewhere.
I need to accept that He made me this way and no other way because His plan is perfect.
I need to accept that I am doing what He wants me to do, and I need to renew the faith that this is where I am supposed to be...because my soul is longing for bigger and greater.
I need to find joy and not just contentment.
I need to remember that I am fighting the good fight and to not back down when outside forces tell me differently.
I need to remember that the right thing to do is never the easy thing to do.

...

...

...

I need to broken again because then He can fix it and put everything back together in the right place.

I know that sounds so weird and I know what I'm asking. It doesn't matter how many days come between me and my depression-filled months...those memories of that defeat and heartbreak are never far away.

But I also know that I can keep scraping the bottom of the barrel and always come up short...or I can be put together perfectly and let things work themselves out.

Any strength that I can find within myself with only last for a few moments. Strength that is built elsewhere will last a lifetime.

I am out of strength. Just add that to the list of the things that are temporary.