Kleenex

Yesterday was my last full day at the middle school doing my student teaching. I was really sad to go, but at the same time, really excited/nervous about my new High School adventure. I stayed pretty late on my last day still helping out kids to the end (I'm really going to miss them).

I didn't get to pick up Parker until about 4:30 that afternoon, and then we didn't get home till about 5pm. I let him kind of run around and do as he pleased while I changed my clothes and wound down from my long day at the school. Before I know it, he is calling to me from his room.

"Mommy, I made a mess!"

So here I am thinking that he had just dumped out a ton of toys or whatever and was telling me that there were toys all over the floor of his room. Boy, do I wish! I walk in there about a minute later and I see something that kind of resembled this:

(courtesy of Google Images)

Kleenex was EVERYWHERE. He decided that it would be a lot of fun to take the full, large, Kleenex box and empty its contents all over his room.

Now, I bought this box of Kleenex last week. 

 (courtesy of Google Images)

I had maybe taken out two of them. The rest? Covering his floor as if it had snowed Kleenexes. I might have freaked out a little. I mean, its not like I am made of money, and Kleenexes are like gold in my house because of how much his nose runs. There goes that money down the drain. I sent him to time-out, and regretfully, I don't think he realized that he had done something wrong. That boy was crying. After the time-out, I sat down and explained to him that Kleenexes need to stay in the box unless we are using them... and even then, we only use one at a time. I think he might understand now, but who knows... this could be a weekly occurrence.

Sure sounds fun though, right?

How I Got Here

I've been thinking about writing this post for quite some time, and I am not really quite sure how to begin or even what all to include. The past 5 years of my life have been a whirlwind, and so much has happened. Some really good, and some really bad. Believe me when I say this, but where I am now is NOT where I planned to be 5 years ago.

Five years ago was early 2006. I was a college sophomore and was a active member of my sorority. I was dating a boy that I had been with since 8th grade, and as of February 2006, we were engaged. Our relationship was... turbulent to say the least. Sometimes it was great, but sometimes, it was as if a bomb just went off. It was hard for us, because even though the relationship wasn't perfect, we were comfortable with each other. I was completely and madly in love with him, but part of me knew that it just wasn't right. I cried more than I should have for being in a relationship that was heading towards marriage. My friends all disliked him and told me as much. They say that if someone tells you not to do something, then you go ahead and do it just to spite them... well... that was the case here as well. I honestly didn't know what to do because I loved him so much, but deep down I was not happy. We started being an on-again-off-again couple until it finally just broke and couldn't be fixed (this happened at the end of my Junior year). So much happened in this period of time that is so personal and still causes a lot of hurt that I really wont get into all of it.

He started dating someone else, and I well... I started living like many of my friends did the past three years in college. I started going out more, and trying to experience everything that I didn't get to experience when I was trapped in the not-so-healthy relationship. I had a lot of stuff that I had to work through in my own head to get back to the person I wanted to be (independent, successful, strong, happy, etc), and although I knew it was going to take some time, I kept trying to convince myself that I was already there and could rebound from heartache, pain, betrayal, and grief (I know, awful, right?!) within a week or so. Not. Going. To. Happen. To be honest with you, I am still working through some of those things and am still healing little bit by little bit from the emotional trauma I went through.

**Let me just take a minute and clarify a few things. I know I am using some strong words in here, and I am not being super clear on what exactly happened that caused the trauma, heartache, pain, betrayal, etc. I may be ready to post about how I got to where I am, but I am not ready to divulge a lot of the specifics to the great wide world and the unknown readers that there are. Maybe I'll get there someday, but right now it's not the time.**

By the time my senior year rolled around, I was starting to feel a little more like myself. Yes, there was still a lot of pain there, and the wounds in my soul were still fresh and stung easily, but I was doing better. I arrived at my college's campus a few weeks early because 1) I was working in the residence halls, and 2) I had to be there early for Sorority stuff. All Greek members get to campus early to get ready for recruitment. Two of my friends convinced me that I needed to go out with them one night (I was about ready to start getting ready for bed because I had to work in the morning). I was out later than I planned on, and before I knew it, the people I was with decided to go back to the house of one of the guys we were with (I had gone to middle school with him, so it wasn't some random person's house). While we were out, I met this tall, slightly older guy that was in town staying with the middle school guy for a football game. One thing led to another... and well... Parker was born 9 months later.

**In case you are wondering, no, I am not proud of the decision (or lack there of) I made that night, but I cannot regret it because my son is the best thing in my life and he would not be here if it had not happened.**

I remember the day I found out I was pregnant like it was yesterday. There was some sort of flu illness traveling around the sorority house, and I was exhibiting the same symptoms as everyone else, so I decided to go to my doctor's office to get checked out. As standard procedure, they had me pee in a cup to rule out the chance that I could be pregnant. I told them that I did not think it was possible... I mean come on, I used 2 forms of birth control that night... but they had me do it anyway. So there I am waiting in the room for the doctor to come back and tell me that I had some sort of horrible plague that they couldn't do anything to help except just telling me to wait it out... and WHAM! out of nowhere I'm told that I am pregnant. I believe the exact words that came out of the doctor's mouth were "Well, it looks like we don't have to do any more tests because you're pregnant." .........SILENCE........ I couldn't speak, and tears were starting to well up in my eyes. I'm pretty sure that my face turned completely white as well. I couldn't be pregnant. NO WAY! This was not happening to me. I was not the type of girl that got pregnant like this. Please, tell me this is just a dream!! "From the look on your face, I'm guessing this is a shock to you. Here are some pamphlets for come clinics nearby that perform abortions." Let me just tell you, but that is not something you say to someone right after they shockingly find out they are pregnant. I swear, this doctor had ZERO bedside manner.

I walked out of the doctor's office like a zombie. My mind was running a mile a minute, but no words could escape my mouth. Everything felt numb, and I was in the middle of living a nightmare. I didn't know who to talk to or who to tell...all I knew was that I had to figure some things out... and fast. I felt really lucky as I walked into the house. Most of my sorority sisters were out at class, so there was almost no one to run into on my way to my room. Someone asked me what the doctor said, and the only word that came out was "flu." No way could I actually say what was really going on. It wasn't real to me yet, and the moment I said something, it would start to become very very real.

It was a Monday that my whole future changed. Monday's also happen to be the day that sororities hold Monday Night Dinner and hold their chapter meetings. So not only was I dealing with my own personal "ish," as I like to call it, but I was having to deal with it while being in the same room as 65 other women for 3 hours. I can only imagine what I looked like that night, wearing dress clothes, hair done, and make-up on. Sure, the outside may have been ok, but my face probably looked completely blank. Sitting in our chapter room for a few hours was one of the last things I wanted to do at that point. I knew I needed to tell someone about what I was going through, but who do you tell first when everything in your life has turned upside down??

Meet my little sis, Vienna. I met her in 2005 when she entered the sorority at the age of 17 (she graduated High School early). She became my little sis in the sorority that same fall, and we've been close since. Back in 2007 when I found out that I was pregnant, she was a Vice President in the sorority. She not only was going to be a good person to talk to because of our connection and the awesome person that she is, but she also knew what my options could be regarding the sorority. The only problem, was I didn't know how to get her alone to talk right after chapter. Everyone always had business with her after our meetings because she was in charge of finances, and girls were always wanting to pay rent/dues, and/or put money into their t-shirt fund. So there I was, creepily waiting outside her door for her to finally be alone. My heart was beating a mile a minute and I had no idea how I was even going to say it. I remember going in there, sitting on her bed... and struggling to get the words "I am pregnant" out. I'm pretty sure she wasn't expecting it... I mean, who would?! She didn't know what to say, but without realizing it, she said the best thing she could have at that time. She told me that she would be there for me. I needed to hear that so badly. I was so scared. There I was, 21 years old, single, still in college, and pregnant. I had no job, and no possibility of a good job till I was done with school. I could not afford to have a baby. And I definitely could not do this on my own.

Slowly I started telling more and more people. I showed them the little picture I got after I went to my first OBGYN appointment (which I took my other sorority sister to). It started to feel more... real. But I still had to tell my mom. I knew that if I was going to get through this, I had to have her support. Otherwise, I was doomed. I drove from two hours north from college to stay there for the weekend. I planned on telling her that night, but her boyfriend/fiance was now living in our house, and I couldn't get a moment alone with her. Finally, on Sunday, not long before I should have been heading back down to college, I hand her a letter. I wrote it the night before when I realized that I wasn't going to be able to get the words to come out of my mouth. So, while it might have seemed cowardly to tell my mom through a letter, it was the only way that I could do it. I was terrified that she would be furious. That she would disown me. Pretty much, I was dreaming up the worst possible things that could happen, and thought they would.

All she did was hug me. For a really long time. I was giving into my pain, and feeling hers along with it. But there was an underlying feeling of joy too. The joy that my mom was going to be a grandmother. That there was going to be this new life that was going to grace our lives. But we both knew that everything was going to change. My (now) step-dad came up the stairs then, and she asked me if she could tell him. I gave her the go-ahead, and she laid it out for him. She told him that this changed their plans significantly, and that if he wanted out of their relationship, she would understand. That was such a selfless act on her part, and I love her so much for it. I am also glad that my step-dad sat there and said that he was going to be all in this as much as he could be. And to be honest, I am so very grateful. My son loves his Papa so much. If he is even around, Papa gets to be the one that takes him to go potty, the one that gets to put him down for nap, the one that gets him up from nap, the one that has to get his snack. Parker cherishes him so much.

So there I was. I had told everyone I needed to for now... well, almost everyone. I still hadn't told the father of my soon-to-be-born child. I had a problem though. Actually, a few problems. I didn't know how to get a hold of him. And I didn't even really know him. I knew who he was, but past that... I had nothing. I decided to try and find him on Facebook, and luckily, he had an uncommon last name and we had many mutual friends, so it took all of a minute or two to find his profile. I emailed him on December 10th asking for him to call me or give me his phone number so we could talk. Nothing happened. No phone call, no message back, nothing. So I emailed him again and said "Hey, it's Megan again. Please call me. I really need to talk to you about something." The next day, I received a call from a number I didn't recognize. There he was. The father of my baby. On the other line. I had to beg myself to keep breathing and get through this. I asked him how he was doing, and we had a little bit of small talk. He said his day was a little interesting, and I told him that I was about to make it a little more interesting. I'M PREGNANT. I could tell he was panicking. And he asked if he could call me back a few days later after he had processed a little bit more. I said sure, and hung up the phone. And proceeded to cry...and cry... and cry. I did it. I actually told him, and this was really, very, real.

The next few months went by in a blur. I moved back to my mother's house and started taking classes at a community college and another University so that I could transfer my credits down and graduate on time. I was terrified that people would find out I was pregnant (uhm... this was a little crazy, because everyone would find out eventually anyways). So the day that one of baby daddy's brothers requested to be my friend on facebook, I was a little nervous about it. I didn't really know him... I mean, I knew of him, but nothing too deep. A few days after the add, I got a notification on my phone that he had posted on my wall. "Sorry to hear you're pregnant. Hope the abortion goes well." My heart left my body at that moment. I couldn't breathe, and tears started streaming down my face. How could anyone say something like that, let alone my soon-to-be baby's uncle?! I was furious, upset, saddened, and heartbroken for my little baby. It was as if he was saying that he didn't want anything to do with his nephew. 

It took me a long time to get over that. We got to know each other, and he got to know my son. After about a year, he finally apologized to me for what he said. I know it must have been hard to apologize for doing what he did, but it didn't make me feel much better. I hurt for a year, and after that much time, the hurt had already done it's damage, and a few words of an apology didn't do much for me. I appreciate the effort, but it wasn't enough.

Baby daddy and I got to know each other better over the next few months. He attended all the doctor's appointments that he could, and he seemed to make an effort. This made me feel a lot better after some previous conversations where he was asking me to have an abortion or give the baby up for an adoption. I considered it... for a few seconds. I knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did either of those things. I new that I could raise this baby, and I know that I could do a good job at it. And I knew, that although it would be hard, I wanted him. I wanted my baby, and it was as simple as that. 

Parker was born on June 25th, 2008. During labor, I was sent home twice before they finally decided to keep me. I was contracting regularly, but was not progressing. At all. It was so frustrating! But I was very lucky. I had my mother and some of my best friends right there at my side helping me get through it. Kelsey and Crystel were the best friends I could have asked for at that moment. They were with me for about a day and half (or at least it seemed like it!). Crystel dubbed herself as my ice chip feeder (and she did a great job! haha). In the delivery room what I gave birth to Parker, was my mother, baby daddy, his mother, and my friends, Crystel, Kelsey, and Aleah. It was a packed house, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. 

This is Crystel and my little nugget

I was very lucky and go to stay home with my son for the first 6 months of his life. Right after he turned 6 months, I went back to work at the job I had previously held during the summer before my senior year. I had been promoted and started working full time. Pretty soon I was promoted again to manager. At about the same time as the managerial promotion, I found out that I had been accepted into grad school to get my Masters of Arts in Teaching. I've been taking MAT classes two nights a week for the past year and a half while also working full time during the day. Just recently I had to quit that job to start student teaching in the classroom. I love it so much, and I am excited to see where my story goes from here.

y=mx+b

As I was walking out to my car today, a mother of a student rolled down her car window and said "my child just told me "she is soooo nice!" It was such a wonderful thing to hear, and it makes me actually feel like I am making a difference. Even if it does just mean that the students (or just one student) like me. 

As a part of my practicum experience, I am being introduced to the AVID program. I am helping out as a tutor during the tutorial days and as a co-instructor on the other days. What we started to realize just recently (especially today), is that every AVID kid is struggling (badly!) in their math class. So, here's the thing about the math class:

1. The students take notes in a math notebook. BUT they can not take the math notebook out of class, which means that they have NO notes to look at when they are trying to do their homework later. 

2. They do not have math textbooks.

3. The teacher teaches really fast and does not really slow down or go back to help struggling students.

4. There is a student teacher in the class

5. The cooperating teacher has been sick all this week, and they have had the WORST substitute ever. So, the student teacher is teaching all on their own with little to no help from the substitute. 

6. The student teacher apparently plans well, but is SO FOCUSED on teaching everything in their plan that the students do not understand, and he does not slow down or go back to something they need help with. 

7. GOOD students are acting out and getting kicked out of class because of the not-understanding. 

Can I just say PROBLEM??!

So, I told a bunch of the kids that I would stay after school with them and try to help them understand it because I have always been good at middle school and high school math. So me, a language arts teacher, is going to attempt to "tutor" 7th grade students in math because they aren't getting help anywhere else. It breaks my heart, because these are all really good kids, and they are all pretty smart, and they could DO this if they had just a little more support.

Exhaustion Has Set In

Flat out, I'm exhausted. It's only Monday, but it feels as if I haven't slept in a week and a half. I have been getting up at 5:45am every week day, and not going to bed until around 10 or 11pm because I am spending my time lesson planning. Speaking of lesson planning, I taught a lesson today... completely solo. Yep, I taught a writing class all by myself. I came up with the material, made my own worksheets, and executed the lesson... fairly well in my opinion. Tomorrow, however, I am teaching a class while being observed by my supervisor... which is kind of a big deal. And I am soooo so nervous. One of the classes I am teaching tomorrow (I am teaching the same lesson to two different classes) is the class full of trouble-makers. Even just today, we had to send two of them out in the hall to do their work because they were causing so many disruptions. I hope my classroom management skills are good enough to deal with that class... Luckily, my cooperating teacher is still going to be in the classroom if I need her help... I'll just be the main teacher that day.

I haven't had much of a life outside of the school lately. If I go out to hang out with anyone, I only ever end up hanging out with the same person... my friend Crystel. I miss having a bit of a life... but I have a feeling a life is something I wont have for quite a while... and I just have to come to terms with that. Raising a toddler on my own combined with finishing up my Masters degree and getting ready to become a teacher is so much work that I cant even imagine trying to do something else... but life is kind of lonely...

The Pros of a Non-Traditional Classroom

Goodness, there is so much to talk about! Practicum started on Monday, and I have been so busy and so tired! I apologize in advance if this post seems to ramble a bit, but I am not sure how I want to formulate this post yet... So this may be interesting. 

I was a little skeptical about my practicum placement at first. Through email, it seemed as is my cooperating teacher did not really know what was going on, which made me really nervous. Not only that, but she does not have a traditional classroom. She has a 7th grade AVID class, and then has 2 reading groups and a writing group. All of these groups are for students that need extra support in the two areas. Twice a day, she goes into other classrooms (social studies, science, math, etc.) and helps with literacy issues related to the subject. For instance, this week, she went around to all the sixth grade science classes and taught the kids how to navigate through a state scoring guide so that they would know what was expected of them in a lab write-up. Parkrose is already a pretty low-income school--many kids are free/reduced lunch, and there are a few that are even homeless. Not to mention I have already seen three kids that can barely read or write (they're in sixth grade!!)

I've been in the classroom for a week now (tomorrow is a grading day, so there is no school for the kids) and I have never loved a job this much!! I absolutely love the kids, and I love being in a middle school. Until recently, I thought I would hate middle school. I was totally set on teaching High School, but I am finding myself wishing I could stay here for the rest of the school year (after only four days!!). I love working one on one with a struggling student and seeing the light bulb go on in their head--they get it!! And this happens with other subject stuff as well! I've been staying after school with my cooperating teacher and helping kids with homework they are having problems with (math, for example). I love love love love looooove this school, this grade, this teacher, and everything about my experience so far. 


Tomorrow my practicum supervisor is coming by the school at 10am to have our first official meeting all together (me, Mrs. Alfrey, and my supervisor). I also have to have some sort of a lesson plan figured out and ready to go tomorrow for a writing lesson that I will be teaching on Monday. The kids in that class will be brand new kids. So it's their first writing intervention class of the trimester. I have to start out strong with something that will make them excited for the rest of the class... hard shoes to fill. I think I am going to try to aim for something more fun, less workworkwork. It's just a matter of figuring out exactly what to do. I've had many ideas: acrostic poem, I am poem, a stream of consciousness writing, a get to know you partner essay, etc. 


I just keep thinking about the kids in the different classrooms. The kids that are homeless are also the kids that cause the biggest disruptions and are the hardest students to handle... but you cant get mad at them, because they have all this other stuff that they are going through that you cant even imagine. And then there are kids that miss 2 weeks of school in a row because of some family crisis/secret that I cant really go into full detail with. The situations that many of these kids come from is so sad... but it also really makes me want to teach them more so they can rise above their situations now and be something/somewhere better. 


I really hope there is a job opening here next year... and I really hope that they would hire me if there was.

Adventures in Student Teaching

Today I went back to Middle School. And the strange thing, is that there were a lot of similarities to my own Middle School. Not only is the layout of the building very similar, but the types of kids in the classroom are remarkably the same as well. Throughout the day, I found myself comparing many of the students to kids that I went to school with in Corvallis. 

I was so nervous when I pulled into the parking lot. I thought I was going to vomit. But from the very moment I met with my cooperating teacher, I felt very at ease. She is the nicest lady and SO down to earth! I had so much fun today, and the school day zipped by!!

The kids were great, too! My cooperating teacher has 2 reading groups, a writing class, an AVID class, and then goes into other classrooms to help with reading comprehension. There is a lot of running around, but that probably makes the day go by faster, right? I will probably be doing my work sample on writing an essay. It's my choice which kind of essay (except for a personal narrative because they are doing that in other classes right now and will be sick of it). I wish I would have done more practice in my MAT classes for teaching writing, but I feel confident I will come up with something great. 

I can't wait to go back tomorrow!!