Rachelle D. Alspaugh's Blog, page 18

Seventy-five years young

 

Happy 75th birthday to my mom!
I'm so proud of my dad for arranging a very memorable day for her. He made her steak out on the grill, and then he invited his kids and grandkids over, specifically asking each one to bring a card and write three ways she has been a blessing to us. He handed each card to her one at a time and had her read them aloud. She teared up with each one she read.
Then he gave her a pure gold necklace, telling her that SHE is gold. He read her several more affirmations of her that he personally sees, and honored her in such a beautiful way. 
I think God wanted to honor her today, too, by letting her rose bushes bloom even at the end of December. 

For my dad's 75th birthday, I made him 75 mini-muffins out of my special banana bread recipe. So for my mom's 75th, I gave her a bag of 75 specialty chocolates. (And some books, some tea, some lavender chamomile spray for her pillow, and a laminated copy of 75 Biblical declarations to read over herself.)
After watching several close friends and now my own mother-in-law lose a spouse or a parent over the last year, I consider myself blessed to be able to celebrate both my parents' 75th birthdays this year. It's been a hard year for a lot of reasons, but this milestone birthday is a pretty good reason to celebrate. 

Christmas morning reflections 2021

I sit here early Christmas morning as the rest of the house sleeps. Just me, my cats, my coffee, and God. Trying to soak in a few moments of peace before making my family a nice Christmas brunch to enjoy together. Because in just a few hours, we'll head to the airport to drop Mike and David off for a flight to Indiana, where they'll stay for the next three weeks. As soon as they come back, David heads straight back to DBU, so I'm trying to savor every moment we are all together. 

Their suitcases are packed and waiting by the door, reminding me to just be present in the moment while they're still here. 

In keeping with tradition, we celebrated the holiday on Christmas Eve. Mike worked all day, and when he requested a special coffee drink from a nearby coffee joint, David and I took advantage of the near 80 degree temps to go for a long walk to get our iced coffees and take one to Mike. I couldn't ask for a better way to spend the last day with David during the break. Just walking together and talking, sipping on our drinks. 

We started the evening before with a small celebration/gift exchange with my parents. I wish we could have done more, but our reality with Mike's family didn't leave us much time. Juan and I will be back to celebrate my mom's birthday with my family tomorrow, though.

We gave them a date in a bag, with gift cards to a coffee shop, a bookstore, and lunch out. We also got them a cute little table, and a dog treat gun for Lulu. They gave us each cash to have a little fun with. 




David's contribution was to put the table together for them.
Last night we all went to the Christmas Eve candlelight service together, got pizza on our way home, and then opened our gifts together. I really enjoyed seeing everyone's thoughtfulness in our gift choices for each other.





Me trying out the new hat that David got for Mike. As you will see, I'm not in the rest of the pictures because Mike hasn't sent them to me yet. So here's the one selfie I got. 

A beard kit from Juan
Juan's initials with Marvel characters from David
Cereal from Juan

A sign I got for Mike. David liked it so much that he got himself one, too. It's basically the tailgate to his truck.

A tube of Adidas socks. :)

The boots David took me shopping for. I love the boots, but I think I loved the shopping trip with David more.
Nice winter sweatshirt for David that will come in handy in Indiana over the next few weeks.
Shirts from my brother, Jonathan, from his company, Kloppmann Architects


Real egg nog
A card from friends with some spending money inside

More Adidas socks

Cool lights for Juan's car



A Cowboy's sweatshirt for Juan, too
A model truck with some cash taped to the side from Juan

A few new t-shirts


A model to put together, along with some cash taped to the side

A new cool family game, along the lines of Scattergories, but with the opposite goal. Instead of one letter and lots of categories, it's one category with all the letters of the alphabet. 
A drink wrapped up. They had to try it before unwrapping it and guess what it was. 








A cool shirt from our very patriotic son, David


A card with his main gift, finding out he will inherit a toolbox from his grandfather.

A card with Juan's main gift, $ to buy some wall decorations he's been wanting.

And me? David got me two pair of boots since they were buy one pair, get a pair free the day we went shopping. Juan got me a Cowboy's jersey, and Mike got me a bunch of fuzzy socks, as he's done for the last 27 Christmases we've spent together. He also ordered me a portable blender I asked for, but they ran out and refunded the money. So I guess he's on the lookout for a different gift. Juan also got me some candles and a gift card to Chili's, which we might just use over the next week. 




Boots and Spazzie got new treats and a treat launcher, but the treat launcher scared Spazzie, so she stayed clear of all pictures. 


Well, Mike is up, so I better get busy on my brunch preparations! Merry Christmas!

Christmas in heaven

All I want for Christmas is time. To relax. To find peace in the chaos of life. To connect and reconnect with people on a deeper level. Yet Christmas this year will scatter us all in different directions. 
My husband's mom needs him right now. Two surgeries await her in her post-cancer treatment and recovery. I hated the thought of Mike leaving for several weeks, both for emotional, financial, and let's just say it--selfish reasons. But I knew she needed him, and he needed to know he could help in her time of need. My father-in-law, Stan, had been in a hospital for a month of testing to receive a rapidly progressing dementia diagnosis, and then he'd been transferred directly to a nursing home equipped for memory care patients. 2021 turned life completely upside-down on them. 
When we left them after a visit in early October, we knew the next trip would look entirely different. We knew we'd likely given our last hugs to both of his parents together and taken our last pics of them in front of their house, as we could see his memory fade in and out from moment to moment. They'd both finally agreed to sell the house, so Mike knew he'd make another trip soon to help fix it up to get it ready to sell. Getting back up to Indiana has been at the forefront of his mind ever since. So as soon as his mom scheduled her surgeries the week after Christmas, he committed to be there to support her, as well as to work closely with his brother on both the house and their financial affairs related to Stan's care. And, of course, to visit their dad, who may or may not remember either of them. They both suspected it may be the last time to ever see him alive.
After arranging everything financially and with work, he booked tickets for himself (and David) to fly to Indiana on Christmas Day. 
But sadly, the opportunity to see their dad once last time will not present itself. Instead of arranging a visit at the nursing home, they are planning his funeral. Between the end stage of dementia and a recent COVID diagnosis, his oxygen levels plummeted and his body surrendered. We all clearly see God's timing and grace in taking him earlier than we expected, but that doesn't take away the heartache and the reality that their dad is gone. For the moment, we're all at peace, but the next few days, weeks, and months ahead will undoubtedly be very difficult, especially with us living so far away. Please keep all of my husband's family in your prayers. Christmas feels especially sad and numb this year for us, though we cannot even imagine the joy of spending Christmas in heaven with Jesus.
(Although their brother, Mark, wasn't there at the time we took this picture, it is the sweetest smile we have ever captured from my father-in-law, so it's the picture we want to share. It's the Stan we want to remember and have ingrained in our memory.)

The little things

Well, I'm not really sure where the first half of December went, but here we are on the day before my last week of school before winter break. This week my kids will learn about how we celebrate Christmas all around the world, they'll work on a project to gift their parents, we'll end the week with a Christmas party on Thursday and pajama day on Friday--and somehow will learn 2 digit addition and subtraction with regrouping amidst all the excitement of all things Christmas. Mike and I have two Christmas parties with church groups, and I have one for work on Thursday evening. Add in some secret Santa gifts and delivering a few goodies to some friends, and it looks like a fun week ahead. I'm looking forward to all of it and am thankful to be feeling so much better than I was a year ago. Oh, and David comes home on Tuesday for the winter break. Yay!!!

Christmas truly looks and feels so different this year, so I'm really trying to focus on enjoying each and every day rather than dreading the busyness that can normally take a toll on me. I really could care less about gifts this year--both to receive and also to give. That may sound a bit selfish, but I truly want to give more gifts from my heart. Gifts that have sentiment and meaning. We've all realized over the last two years that material things and money don't mean anything in the face of all we lost. Mental and physical health have taken such a huge hit across the board that people want love, connection, and meaningful interaction over anything else, whether they know it or not. 

I have friends and family who have lost so much over the last two years. Friends have lost spouses they thought they would grow old with, either to unexpected death, disease, or to separation and divorce. Other friends and family heard cancer diagnoses for the first time, and some for the second time after recently celebrating being cancer free. Families grow distant over not knowing how to support one another in their grief. I'm a prayer warrior, and my list gets longer every day for people I've committed to pray for. Life doesn't look anything like it did just two short years ago. Some of us haven't been touched physically by COVID, some of us survived a few uncomfortable weeks, some of us are still battling its effect on us even a year later, while others of us lost a loved one to it. But mentally and emotionally, we've all been gravely affected. All you have to do is spend a week in any school classroom to see the detrimental affect it has had on kids' mental health. With so much focus on self-protection, we forgot how rich it feels to sacrifice for the needs of others. Myself included. 

I have my kids write a LOT in my classroom. Probably the most important assignment I give each day is our daily journal reflection at the end of the day. They have to write about what they learned, what they're thankful for, how they feel and why, and what their hopes are for the next day. I make sure they can express their emotions and explain what makes them feel that way. Since it's the last thing we do every day, they actually look forward to it because it signals our time to go home. :) And it's the one assignment I enjoy checking right after they leave. 

I may not always teach everything I'm supposed to or follow everything they've stuffed into the curriculum. I may not always teach to the test or put all the right things up on my walls or ask the most rigorous questions, but I take the time to personally connect with each and every one of my students, and I also teach them how to connect with themselves. I hope that they will continue journaling and reflecting on their days long after they leave my classroom. If they do, then I know I had success as their teacher. 

So with all that said, my Christmas theme this year is all about authentic connection and care for those that God puts in my path. I hope this next week gives me the chance to connect with others in a way that I don't normally take the time to do. I hope my gifts reflect how deeply I love and care about the people I give them to. This year it's all about the little things that make the biggest difference. 

A gift of prayer made for a grieving friend

30 Days of Gratitude--Better late than never

Well, it's been a challenging year, and before I knew it, November slipped right past me. But here we are on the last day of November, so I still have time to get in my 30 days of gratitude. Though the year has been filled with a lot of hard, the hard still held things to be thankful for.

This year I am thankful for: (in random order)

A diverse class of students and families from several countries in Central America.A really great church with incredible leadershipDallas Baptist UniversityMy bikeA fireplace to keep our house warm through the winter freezeA really good, caring cardiologistA chance to see and visit with all of our extended family this yearSafe travels to and from IndianaA new life group on Saturday nights at a different campusA really great midweek small group that focuses on strengthening our marriagesMorning walksMorning kitten snugglesA hot cup of decaf coffeeFront porch Bible studyPraying friendsA close friend to ride bike with, meet for coffee, and pray with.Writing opportunitiesBike trails surrounded by gorgeous wildflowersJuan's reconnection with a childhood friendStepping Stones ChurchSeeing friends and family survive COVIDGetting stronger after dealing with COVID complicationsCard games with David, even though I always loseMike's job promotion earlier this yearFriends who buy me new clothes just becauseBlueberriesCoffee and lunch dates with friendsFamily picsAn exercise bike for cold days and dark morningsCraft times with Mom

Birthday Season 2021

 In the last month, Mike turned 45, Juan David turned 24, and David turned 20. With a family of four adults, it gets a bit harder every year to try to celebrate all together, and this year we just had to be flexible to find that time. 

For Mike's birthday, we went bowling, had a cookout, and his boss actually gave him the day off, so he and David got to watch the Cowboy's game together. We also all four went out to Chili's together the night before. We kept it low key and relaxed after just having returned recently from a trip to Indiana to see his family. Juan got him the shoes he wanted, and David got him stuff for the garage. I got him a wall hanging with pictures I snapped of his family together and of the house he grew up in.  We had a skillet cookie with ice cream on the 30th, and then we had cheesecake instead of cake on his birthday. 

For Juan's birthday, we went to a movie together that he wanted to see, and then that night we went out to eat together after church. We got him something for his car that he let us know he wanted.  He's been on a health/fitness kick recently, so he asked for fruit salad instead of a cake. I didn't get out to get the fruit salad, but I did walk to the grocery store that morning to get fruit bowls of various mixed fruits. 

I had to go searching to find this picture, but I found it and posted it on Facebook so that it's there now as a yearly memory on his birthday, the first birthday gift I ever gave him, the one he opened on our last phone call together before they cut off my contact with him in Colombia when the adoption failed. I am always reminded of the privilege it is to give him gifts every year on November 6th. 

For David's birthday, the celebration came in parts. First I gave him a blanket I had made with a picture of his beloved truck. He knew I ordered it early when they had a sale, so he asked to have it early to take to Indiana with us. We knew he wasn't coming home for his birthday on the 16th (a Tuesday), but he stopped by home on Friday night on his way to a football game with one of his housemates, so I gave him a second gift, two decks of cards with pics of his truck on them. The next day Mike went to DBU to work on his truck with him, so I sent a little cake for him to enjoy with his housemates. Finally on black Friday (the 26th), we got to take him out for his birthday dinner. 

(Since I gave him his gift back in September, I made him let me have cake and sing to him then, too. Lol.)




I can't believe my baby is 20, the one who made me a mom. We graduated the teenage years in our home! A bittersweet day, for sure. 

Cherishing these celebrations, especially now that my boys are beginning to live their own adult lives and my role in their lives changes more and more each day. As much as I miss their younger years when they relied on me a bit more as their mom, I am trying to cherish this stage of their lives, as well, watching them take risks, take responsibility for themselves, and learn to be independent. I'm not saying it's easy, but I don't know that any stage is easy. 

Seasons of Prayer

Life seems to flow so naturally in and out of seasons that we can't always pinpoint when one season ends and the next begins. Kind of like weather seasons--they have a start and end date, but in reality, the change is very gradual. So we gradually prepare for the next season by gathering all we might need and keeping it handy for when we might start to need it. 

And then sometimes you feel caught between seasons, not knowing how to dress or prepare for the next day or week. One day it's warm, the next a bit chilly, the next you're wearing a t-shirt, and then suddenly you need a jacket before going outside. Those in-between seasons are the hardest because you can't seem to settle in to any kind of rhythm. Rhythms bring peace, and without them we do not feel settled.

Our prayer lives go through seasons, as well. Sometimes we have a consistent routine of morning or evening prayers, asking God for daily guidance, confessing our sins, and lifting up people we love to the Father. Other times we spend a considerable amount of time on our knees, desperate to hear from God and see him at work in a particular situation. And yet sometimes we fall into a season of silence, where words just don't come or seem to be too much. Prayer gets hard and discouragement sets in. We feel like God is distant in those times.

I'm learning, though, to embrace this season of silent, near wordless prayer. Sometimes my mind gets so cluttered that I can't seem to form any kind of meaningful prayer. My heart is restless, and so I sit quietly and don't say a word. I go for a walk to spend time with God, and yet I never open my mouth to speak. It's in the silence that I can actually hear. Prayer isn't just talking to God. It's communication with God, and without any season of silence, we don't give God free reign to speak to our hearts. In order to hear from God, sometimes we just need to be still and let him talk. 

I like to be prepared at all times. Prepared for the heat. Prepared for the cold. Prepared for the rain, the snow, the ice, the fog. I have a sweater hanging by my computer at work, an extra hat and gloves in the car, an umbrella by the door, and sunglasses tucked away right by the driver's seat. I invest in them all ahead of time, but I would be silly to use them all every time I go anywhere. I don't need the sunglasses on a cloudy day, nor do I need my hat and gloves in the middle of a Texas summer. I pull each item out when I need it, and I put it safely back where it belongs when I don't. But I always keep those necessities within reach, especially for those in-between seasons.

It's the same with our seasons of prayer. I set up my prayer corner with everything I might need to have quality conversation with God. A journal, a pen, soft lighting, a Bible, books filled with Scripture prayers to pray in different seasons, devotionals, notecards, etc. Certain seasons call for journaled prayers, others beckon more time in Bible study, while others require a Scripture on a notecard that I can carry with me to pray throughout the day. Sometimes God impresses certain people on my heart to pray them through a hard season, so I write their names on a list in my journal that I bring before God every day. And then other times, I go for a walk, quietly surrender my day to God, and then walk for thirty minutes in absolute silence. And in that silence, God speaks to my heart, rearranges my thoughts, gives me fresh perspective. Whatever burdens my heart that day that I can't put into words, the Holy Spirit takes over and prays for me. 

Whether I journal, pray Scripture, read a list of names and requests to God, or just sit in silence in His presence, it's all communication with God. And it's all prayer. Rather than get discouraged that certain seasons of prayer seem more intentional than others, remember that seasons flow into each other so naturally that you may just be in-between seasons. Keep everything you might need close at hand, but let God lead the communication. 

I'm in a loud season of life right now and am having a hard time drowning out all the noise. Work demands more physical and mental energy right now, and family needs can feel so overwhelming. When I make time to spend with God, silence calms my heart and soul more than journaling or spoken prayer. Sometimes all I can do is vent and release what's on my mind and heart to God and then ask Him to rearrange it all so I can see His perspective. 

But I am excited and preparing for a quieter season when I can dig into this new prayer journal I found. A Bible reading plan, pages to fill with gratitude, a daily emphasis on praise, adoration, and confession, a place to document answered prayers and to write a list of continual prayers, a small folder to tuck away notecards, and a place to just reflect on life. All in one year long journal. I haven't opened it up yet because I feel God saying it's for another season. So for today, I wrote my list of gratitude, prayed Scripture over my family and friends, and I'll go for a walk later with God to just experience His presence out in nature and allow Him to speak to my heart in whatever way He chooses. Even if no words are exchanged, it's okay. 

Fall "Break" 2021

 We took a trip through the midwest and then to the East as a family at the end of 2017, visiting as many family members as we could squeeze into one trip. After visiting both Guatemala and Spain that year, we made our family motto that Christmas "Collect moments, not things". Little did we know we wouldn't make another family trip for quite a while, after job loss, personal financial setbacks, new jobs and schedules, and then all things COVID. 

This current year brought some significant health issues to Mike's parents, leaving us feeling helpless being so far away, knowing they could really use our help. We wanted to get them in a better position to be able to downsize if and when necessary. So when I saw that David and I shared the same week of fall break, I knew we needed to make a trip up to Indiana if at all possible to see Mike's family.

We made a stop in Columbus, Indiana to stay with Mike's brother, Matt, and his family for our first day and a half. Then Matt went up to Warsaw, IN (four more hours of driving) with us where he, Mike, and David worked non-stop to clear out a TON of things around their house and barn. (Juan couldn't take vacation at his new job, so he stayed home with our cats.) They made an incredible team together and accomplished so much more than any of them even imagined possible. It was really neat to see Mike and his brother working together and truly enjoying every minute of it. They both have an incredible work ethic and servant hearts, and David just jumped right in and enjoyed learning from both of them. (Mike's brother Mark would have loved to have helped, too, but it didn't work out with his work schedule, either.)

We stayed in Warsaw all week, and then we went back down to Columbus to spend our last day with Matt's family again before making the 13 hour drive home from there. I could probably turn the whole trip into several blog posts, but with work starting back tomorrow, I'll have to settle for just posting a bunch of pics to remember this trip. 

Hanging out in the famous Man Cave (a room above Matt's garage) that Mike and David always look forward to on our visits to Columbus

Somebody didn't get much sleep after driving 13 straight hours

A little boxing

A little dart playing

And a little more boxing

Cousin Dane, with one of the sweetest cats in the whole world

Aunt Chrissy hanging out with her boys after dinner

Daily four wheeler fun



Absolute admiration over the deer that Chrissy is rehabilitating after their mother was hit and killed


David and Kase watching the Cowboys



When we couldn't get the Cowboys game on the radio or on the app during our drive up to Warsaw, Juan face-timed the game from home with us.



You can't go to Warsaw and not stop at Penguin Point for a tenderloin or Big Wally.

Our new little friend in Warsaw, Little Bite. A stray that just showed up at their door and made herself right at home. 

Fixing up the steps that weren't safe anymore.

Clearing out the shed, the barn, the garage, and the land all around, with a constant burn pile for about four days. 


At least four loads of scrap metal that paid off well!



So thankful for large equipment in the garage to help move all that stuff!







Wherever they were working, those chairs followed so Mike's parents could sit and watch. 


Selling things they no longer needed to people who could put it right to use



Broken steps that got fixed.



Breast Cancer Awareness month suddenly became a whole lot more personal.


She has no idea the strength, joy, and positivity she radiates. 

A nice walking route





Chai from my favorite coffee shop


A last minute visit with a good friend


Back in Columbus, just admiring the beautiful sunrise.


Morning feeding time at the Deer Diner







Another beautiful walking route



Cherished every moment of "Chrissy time". I love how deeply we can connect with each other, even when we only see each other every few years. 


Alspaugh cousin time. There are ten years between David and their oldest. Wow. They sure do love David, though, and they love to gang up on him.






Came home to a fresh breakfast from Juan, and two cats sniffing all our stuff. :)

Sophomore year at DBU

In keeping with tradition, I guess, David and his dad worked non-stop all summer on a big project on his truck, one that took them down to the wire to finish before he had to move back onto campus. When I say down to the wire, I mean, they finished at 1:30 a.m. on Saturday morning, and we left for DBU at 2:00 that afternoon. He and Juan drove his truck with a few big items in the back, while I followed behind with my car packed full of all his clothes and any items that might fly around. 

(They were so proud of their work, they had to take sunset pictures of their completed project.)

At DBU, the dorms are mainly for freshman, and then they have this little town down the hill filled with apartments and townhomes on campus for all of the upperclassmen. Juan spent his last semester on campus in an apartment that he shared with four other guys. David is starting out his sophomore year in a  cute little townhome that he shares with six other guys. I didn't take any pics inside since all the other guys have lived there for awhile, and David was the only one who waited till the last minute to move in--despite paying rent on it all summer. (Which is okay with me--I'll keep him around as long as I can.) But they have a small kitchen downstairs where he can keep his groceries and make his own meals (I see lots of eggs and quesadillas in his future). They have a decent sized living room, and then three bedrooms. David's bedroom is upstairs with a roommate. He was a little nervous about living with six guys, but now that he's been there a week, he said they all get along really well and he already feels pretty comfortable around them. 

He's already had a week of classes, and he said he feels really good about all of them. (Juan David is taking online classes this semester, and we found out they are both taking the same class, though with different teachers. How funny is that?)

He already jumped back into attending a young adult/college age weekly event called the Porch at Watermark Church that he went to as often as he could last year. (A lot of DBU kids attend, and this week he went with his new housemates, so that's cool.) Plus he's working at an Autozone close by the campus, after working at the one right by our house all summer. 

Looks like he's all set up for a good year ahead. Hoping COVID numbers stay down so he can experience somewhat of a normal college life this year. 

Believe it or not, he already came home for the weekend, showing up yesterday afternoon. Apparently he and Mike still had some stuff to do to finish up the truck. So we had dinner out together last night and we will go to church together tonight before he heads back tomorrow. 

Love that kid. 

Teaching in a pandemic--Take 3

 My second year back in second grade after a 5 year hiatus (to teach Pre-K) felt amazing. I loved my students, and they worked harder than any class I'd ever taught. We had a system down that made everyone feel safe to learn at their own pace in their own way. Who knew we'd only make it to spring break together that year, at least in a physical setting. That particular class had to finish out the year at home, meeting with me on Google Meet, finding their own manipulatives to learn at home, and figure out their own structure for how they could learn best. Sadly, as much as I reached out, I could not help all of them in the same way, and not all of them had the support at home necessary to keep thriving. 

What did I take away from that year? To appreciate today and make it count. 

Then came my third year back in second grade. The class that started out the year at home. Teaching during a pandemic Take 2.

We had a bit more structure, they had the necessary technology to "show up" to class, and the majority of parents had some kind of system figured out for this new way of education to work. Teachers had sufficient time for training and also for planning out lessons, making videos, etc. For the most part, other than the disruption of trying to get kids to take a national achievement test remotely, it worked. I enjoyed online teaching, when they were all at home. It also helped that at least half of them already knew me and had a relationship with me, as they were my last class I taught in Pre-K before moving back to second grade. They already held a special place in my heart. 

Then little by little, they started to come back to school. At first, I had about half at school and half at home. Then week by week, another parent felt safe enough to send their child back, and the "face2face" group grew. I felt less safe and more stretched every day, somehow expected to teach two groups of kids without the time to effectively plan out lessons for my virtual students. And having students online stole time and attention to effectively teach the group right in front of me. Two months in, COVID found me and knocked me down, literally, for pretty much the rest of the year. Nine months later, and I'm still recovering. I missed more school last year than I ever have in all eighteen years of teaching, and I saw more doctors in a span of a few months than I ever have seen in my life up to this point--all due to COVID, and also to the fact that the stress and workload put on my as a teacher gave my mind and body no time to recover. Sometimes God sends us into a battlefield, and the 2020/21 school year was my war zone. 

To sum it up, last year's model did NOT work. It stole from every side of the triangle--from the in person kids, from the virtual learners, and from the teachers. And the effects will be evident for years to come. 

What did I take away from that year? Give myself grace. My own health and sanity matter more than being successful at my job, especially considering that my job did not provide what was necessary to be successful, anyway. 

So I spent my six weeks of summer break hanging out on my bike, grabbing lunch or coffee with friends, and making crafts with my mom. Low key, low stress. Barely even thought about school.

And now here we are into my fourth year back in second grade, still in the pandemic. 

Teaching in the pandemic--Take 3. 

All the kids are back. The hallways, classrooms, cafeteria, and playground are full. For the most part, kids are in masks, though it's gone back and forth as to whether or not they're required. I feel safer for everyone when they're in a mask, and I'm thankful that the population I teach supports that. In just the second week of school, at least a fourth of my class missed several days of class due to being sick or someone in the family being sick. I've had to contact parents only to find out they gave their child medicine and sent them on to school. The virus is still spreading. Some schools have less active cases than others. All it takes is one child to come to school sick before several students (and their families) are affected. 

Definitely not ideal teaching. Definitely can turn into a dangerous situation quickly. But definitely better than last year's model. I find myself just focusing on the day, or even on the hour, at hand. Not planning much ahead, not even trying to get ahead. Maybe falling on my face right before school started had an impact on my mindset, teaching me to let go of what I just cannot physically do. But with kids out for a week at a time, I feel like I'm doing a lot of back tracking, constantly having to reteach to someone. And we're only fifteen days in. 

The effects of last year have already become quite apparent. Our kids lack social skills, for sure. Now that they're in such close proximity to each other again, they don't know how to act or what to do or say. They don't ever stop talking, so I finally accepted the fact that my need for quiet moments in order to collect my thoughts just isn't going to happen for awhile. I'm having to give them opportunities to talk and share more within the lesson because they just NEED that social interaction. Fine motor skills and self-organizational skills are several steps behind what they normally would be for their age. Academic skills are all over the place, with some students that absolutely thrived on the virtual model while others very obviously had no structure or support. Now the big push is small group teaching, which truly is the only way to teach right now with so many kids on so many different levels. 

My first two weeks, I could do very little due to my injury from falling. My goal was to make it through the day and somehow keep everyone corralled. Week 3 I finally felt much better, had a lot more mobility, could actually bend over to put some books and supplies away, and I welcomed parents from at least 15 of my students to visit my classroom and learn more about how my class will (likely) run for the year. That parent night always energizes me and reminds me of my why. As I interact with families from Mexico, Honduras, Guatemala, and El Salvador, I remember the dream God gave me as a middle school child to become bilingual someday. I thought I needed to learn Spanish in order to fulfill a calling outside of my own country, but as soon as I came home from studying abroad in college, God started bringing children and families from many nations right to my doorstep. It is truly and honor and a privilege to serve such. a multicultural class by giving them the skills they need to be successful in life. 

As I headed out the door on my way to the doctor last Monday, a Guatemalan student from last year's class saw me, reached into her backpack, and handed me an envelope. Tucked inside, I found the most precious letter thanking me for working so hard to teach her Math the year before. She said, "I keep thinking about you, the best teacher in the world." She has no idea how deeply that letter touched me or how she truly made my day. 

Even in the midst of a horribly stressful year, when I felt so defeated as a teacher, I still made a difference. 

So whether it's Take 1, Take 2, or Take 3, it all matters. And God is still using me and equipping me for the job, or battle, in front of me.