Irony at Its Finest

I used to be a teacher. I used to be a high school teacher. I used to be a high school English teacher. Don't judge me.

I talked in my first blog post ever about why I wanted to blog and the pressure I felt to be a "PERFECT" example of creative and grammatically correct writing. I no longer feel that pressure. Thank goodness!

But as we trudge nearer to Christmas, I still have a strong feeling of compassion for the teacher. Especially the English teacher. The papers. The grading. The deadlines. The students who just aren't motivated. I'm reminded of one of the reasons I began teaching: a love for teenagers at such a pivotal moment in their lives.

Having lost my mother when I was a sophomore in high school, I could relate to some of the tragedies students go through during their pubescent years. Sometimes it was easy to talk to them and let them know someone understood. Sometimes it was hard to watch a student make such negative choices for themselves.

Now that I have two children in "school," I have a different perspective. Granted, I don't get calls from the teachers that my child is failing, got in a fight, threw a tantrum, but I know a preschool teacher deals with a lot of attitude and, quite frankly, pee-pee and poo-poo.

I made the unfortunate decision to send A.E. to school in big girl underwear last week. She had been progressing quite well in the potty training ranks, and I thought this was the next level we could go to. Just in case, I sent some extra pants, socks and underwear. With feelings of apprehension, when I walked in the school to pick up the girls, my eyes scanned the hallway for signs of success. I was greeted with a bag full of urine soaked clothes. And I was angry.

I wasn't angry at A.E. I was angry with myself. Do you ever make parenting decisions where, in retrospect, you knew what you should have done and didn't? I had that mom-moment where as I helped A.E. get dressed that morning, I knew it in my core that she wasn't ready. When I dropped her off, I knew she wasn't ready. An hour before it was time to pick her up, I knew she wasn't ready. AND I contemplated picking her up early to avoid any accidents. But I didn't.

So I was angry with myself. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what else I can say to A.E. to help understand how to know if she needs to go. I'm just going to have to have more accidents. And wake up earlier. And do more laundry. And laugh.

So today when I picked the girls up from school, I left with their teachers a little Christmas present. H.J.'s teachers got cute metal magnets that look like presents, bow and all. But for A.E.'s teachers, they got soap. And it looked like this:

QUIZ: Did you catch the irony?

Pending Approval

So here's the first draft of our Mission Statement as Parents.

To teach my children about:

1. God
2. God’s son, Jesus Christ
3. God’s forgiveness and salvation through Jesus Christ
4. seeking God’s will

About God:
· through reading and studying the Bible
· through prayer
· through Sunday School/VBS

About God’s Son, Jesus Christ:
· through reading and studying the Bible
· through holiday events like Christmas and Easter
· through Sunday School/VBS

About God’s forgiveness and salvation through Jesus Christ:
· through reading and studying the Bible
· through holiday events like Christmas and Easter
· through Sunday School/VBS
· through forgiveness in our familial relationships
· through discipline

About seeking God’s will:
· through reading and studying the Bible
· through daily prayer and quiet times
· through nightly dinner discussions about our daily lives and God’s presence there

So there's what we've got so far. I haven't shown it to the Phillips Phamily Daddy yet. He'll surely read it tonight when he gets home. (He's such a faithful follower!) I'll update you later with his additions/subtractions.

She Makes a Mama Proud

"A.E., how was school today?"

"I had so much fun at school today."

"What did you do?"

"I learned."

In light of my last post, it warms my heart.

Sidenote: I am now know as "Mother."

Teachers

A.E.'s latest game is being the "teacher." For some reason, it's raining, and we have to "go to school." School takes place in the dining room, where there is a table and a buffet. No chairs, no books, no paper, no pencils.

Today there were Auburn and Tennessee shakers, a pair of old sunglasses (just the frame-the lenses were popped out long ago), and a little toy school bus. A.E. taught me how to clean the floor with the Auburn shaker. However, I could not hold the shaker.

"This is for the teacher. Only the teacher can hold it. I clean the floors, Mother. Not you."

I'm thinking, "Oh, really? Well, that's nice!"

I go back to making lunch in the kitchen.

"Come to school, please, Mother! Come to school, please, Mother!"

I quickly am escorted back to the dining room.

"These are the teacher's glasses."

Okay.

This evening A.E. repeated the "game" with her Daddy. I suggested to her that she could be H.J.'s teacher, so the Phillips Phamily Daddy could sit down to dinner. Wow. That idea, A.E. as H.J.'s teacher, has opened a whole new can of worms. We'll see where this leads us.

I think A.E. is thriving on her "school" days. She looks forward to Tuesdays and Thursdays, but she is hard-pressed to really open up about what she does there or what she is learning. I have my guesses because the teachers sent home a list of concepts, but it's interesting that she, so far, can only answer yes and no questions about her day. I'm hoping she'll start "teaching" H.J., so I can see her perception of a teacher.

Coming from a teaching background, I think about learning and teaching maybe in a different way than most parents. I often just observe my children playing, rarely interrupting, lest there be danger or a squabble. I've thought (maybe too much) about the different experiences A.E. and H.J. will have with learning because of their birth order and proximity in age. This one thing I know has been the same for both of them: I love to let them play with a toy before I show them how it works or what it can do. Most of the time, they figure it out. Sometimes they understand the toy, but lack the dexterity or strength to operate it. Often there is frustration and then comes the learning.

Does God do this with us? Do we figure things out, eventually? Do we have the head knowledge to figure things out, but lack the spirit to live life "right?" Do we get frustrated, and then learn the lesson? Oh, I think so. How do we really learn?

• Reading.
• Writing about what we read.
• Discussing what we read and wrote.
• Applying the lesson to our lives.

So as my children are completely engrossed in learning, from the simple to the complex things of life and living, I am reminded how important it is for me to keep learning. And for me to keep teaching.

Just Trying This Thing Out

There comes a time in everyone's life when they have to decide...are you going to blog or not? After stalking several friends and friends-of-friends for many months now, I've made my decision: yes, I will be a blogger. After failed attempts to be a scrapbooker, (sorry, Carrie and Lou Lou) I've decided that my life and the life of my family will be best captured through the not-so-private world of the blog. Through creating this memory capsule, I hope to accomplish the following:

1. Document the rapid rate at which my children are becoming little people
2. Keep in touch with friends and family
3. Make important announcements such as, we're pregnant, we're moving, we're taking a trip to Mars, etc.
4. Regain that part of my brain I lost after having two cerebral-eating kids--but I love you A.E. and H.J.!
5. Share the fun we have as a "Phamily" and "Phollowers of Christ"

I loved reading and writing in high school, so I became an English teacher. A high school English teacher. For a mere six years. This fact is my one hesitation in becoming a blogger. I am expected to use correct grammar, to spell correctly, and in general, to be a brilliant writer. I don't think I lived the life of a teacher long enough to have become what I once thought all my former teachers were: perfect, never-wrong, and all-knowing. SO...now what do I realize? Those teachers I once idolized weren't the perfect, never-wrong, and all-knowing creatures I imagined them to be. They were, however, willing to look up the answer and learn so they could pass that truth on to us, their students. So I will enter this world of blogging, a former teacher, stay-at-home mama, and student of what is next to come.