Wednesday, April 21

Unexplainable

This is a delayed story, but one I doubt I'll soon forget.

On Saturday, April 10th after mistakeningly showing up for a 2 year-old birthday bash a day early, Chris & I were headed to visit Josh & Leslie for his [not 2nd] birthday. I was driving and Chris was working in. Sign carving and we entered Indiana heading towards Fort Wayne on 30 before shooting north. Just a little bit after crossing the border, we saw a car parked on the side of the road. Flat black, hood up, no hazard lights. Then a bit further there was a man walking. Common sense told me these two: the man and the car went together.

As I continued to drive, thinking out loud about the man, how far he would have to walk to get to even a house on this highway, and that it *must* be a dead battery because why else wouldn't his hazards be on?! I wondered if we should turn around. I mean it would be REALLY far until a road he could walk down off 30 and even farther to a house that someone would hopefully be willing to help him. Chris seemed to play with the idea for a moment then went back to carving. I couldn't dismiss the situation and was thankful whem Chris finally asked me what I wanted to do...

Turn around.

And so we did. Mind you only a few minutes passed, if that, before we decided to turn around. As I pulled a legal u-y, Chris rearranged our bags in the back seat for a soon-to-be guest and we both confided in the other that we were a little scared/nervous/apprehensive about stopping as neither of us had done this before. [That is if you don't count the time Dani and I stopped for a guy who needed to borrow a cell. We got quite the lecture from her momma who was right behind us. Rightfully so, two senior girls probably shouldn't stop.]

So I drove back towards the Ohio border keeping my eye out for the walking man and the next place I could pull another u-y. I saw places to pull my u-y, but no man. I continued to split my vision on the road ahead and the other lane's ditch but we did not see him, or his car. Our thoughts that there was no way that we drove that far past the man was confirmed when we hit the Ohio border again. I turned around at the border [again] and was baffled as we retracked our treads once again and still no car and no man.

Now if only the man was gone, that would make sense as someone else could have slowed down before we got back and picked him up. But for both the car and the man to be gone it just didn't make sense. We didn't pass a tow truck, the man wouldn't have had time to turn around and get back to his car if someone had stopped to "fix" his car, and on top of that we didn't pass his car on the highway. It just didn't add up.

I was a bit freaked out to say the least and Chris informed me that he too would have been but he wasn't allowing himself to.

Chris wondered if someone somehow helped him before we got back. I wondered if it was a test if we were really *willing* to be a good Samaritan. We both wonder if we will ever know.

Sunday, April 18

Subbing Week 1-2

I just completed Week 2 of substitute teaching and boy had it been interesting. I find it quite fascinatiing how vastly different 4 grades in 4 schools in the same school district can be. Now don't get me wrong, it doesn't take a 4 [and a 1/2] year degree to tell me that there's a difference between preschool and high school math but it's amazing how the overall attitudes of the buildings were SO different!

In order to recap, and preserve possible futurely forgotten memories, here's a glimpse into the past two weeks of my life:

Preschool: What a FUN group of 3.5-6 year olds that I got to spend 3 days with. Of course it was 100% fun 100% of the time, but overall a great experience. Think glorified babysitter who asks intentional questions. I loved befriending them and getting to know their cute lil' personalities even the quirks. And I'm pretty sure they enjoyed befriending me as well. :-)

At the end of the 3 days, I was informed that R was my boyfriend [and his little friend M dared him to hug me, but he was quite timid], but K was moving in and gave me LOTS of hugs and draw me a picture that 'says' 'We like to give each other hugs!' I'm not sure about K, but at least with R I know I'll be provided for. He has his own 'pimpin Cadealac' and motorcyle, he just let's his parents borrow then. Pretty established Gor a 5-year-old!

Then there was the declaration at recess time that I was the best swing pusher because 'Miss Rachel makes us go high!'

And who can forget sweet, adorable A who proudly informed me that she could finally write her 's'? I scurried over to see her accomplishment but arrived to a page full of backward s-es. :-( I didn't have the heart to tell her they were all wrong do instead I continued to practice with her. She'll get it, I'm sure!
In addition to the million dollar smiles and stories the younguns shared during play time, watching particular children come alive was so rewarding! One little boy, A, was very quiet and to himself most of the 3 days I was there, but on the last day something changed a bit and he opened up in a backwards 4-year-old way. He approached me for the 1st time at playtime [which was VERY out of the ordinary] and then upon going outside he laughed and giggled as he swung higher and higher and I dodged his kicking legs and informed him that he was indeed the best swinger on the playground. [In return he showed me how if your legs get tired you can just use your neck to make yourself continue swinging. Like a turtle sticks his head in and out of its shell]. Before lining up to go home A presented me with a strip of paper that I can 'take on walks to know which way to go'. I'm not exactly sure how my navigating tool works, but in this case it's definitely the fought [and remembering his quirky smile] that counts!
On a different note, when a boy with a variety of 'setbacks' is told to do something he doesn't want to, it is important to remember to try you best to neither smile nor gag when he turns around sticks his butt at you and let's one rip. The smell will shortly pass and depriving him of his ill-sought attention is the best option, even of it stunk REALLY badly. Trust me on this one. :-)
4th Grade: This was my biggest challenge thus far [I know, I know it's early in the game yet]. Lesson #1 Just because a student is an angel and a common go to girl for the regular teacher, doesn't mean she'll behave for you. Actually she may end up being your biggest headache. :S Overall this experience was quite eye-opening. I was submerged in a school very different from my previous elementary experience and had to adapt to a class structured and disciplined even more differently than how I would choose to handle matters. If nothing else, in 4 days this classroom taught me the importance and necessity of being on my toes and establishing clear expectations while allowing 4th graders to still be 4th graders. What a balance!

And some 4th grade thoughts/wisdom for your reading pleasure:
Students of this age have no concept of age, at least I hope that is the case! On Day 1 of subbing I was asked 'Were you once a real teacher and then you retired and now your a sub?' When I startledly asked T if she thought I was old enough to do such, she explained that Mr. Z retired and he wasn't very old... He was only like 45! Nervous she thought I too was 45, I asked how old she thought I was: 'Oh about 20-something.' Whew!!

Another day at lunchtime I was asking a boy how his lunch was [tgey were having 'hamburgers' on this day]. Be said they weren't bad but nothing compared to his dad's 'Fartburgers' and I should come over sometime to try them. Thinking--or hoping rather-- that I misheard him I asked him to repeat himself. To which I got the explanation, 'You know, fartburgers! He mixes stuff with the hamburger and if you eat just one of those you'll be able to fart all night long! It's awesome!!' I reassured him that I was confident that Chris wouldn't appreciate that but thanks for the offer. Oh 4th grade boys!

Speaking of 4th grade boys, I think I've encountered 2 of the sweetest with subbing! N and S were not only sweet, but adorable as well! N was willing to help wherever needed and was very knowledgeable about the runnings of not only the classroom, but of the whole school. He told me he could run the place and I am sure he could! He just may need a booster seat so he could clearly see over the big desks in the office and people could see his little 9 year old stature. In addition to constant willingness to answer my questions and help other students, he only asked me ONCE for anything. 'Ms. Massie can you put my earring back in?!' Of course! :-)

The other cutie I wanted to fold up and put in my pocket was S. He was cute and I'm pretty sure he knew it, although his was quite innocent as well. One day early on he was out of his seat and just as I was about to remind him that his tush was for sitting on he gave me a hug and sat back down. :-) Another time I wanted to correct him but instead what came out of my mouth was 'You're lucky you're cute!' His big ol' smile brighten each morning!

My final 4th grade story is aout my name. 11 months ago when I married my best friend I thought my name would be messed up LESS than before: Klum, Plum, etc. This isn't quite the case, but that's another story. This story: After school one day T, the same girl who asked if I was once a real teacher then retired and now found myself subbing, was drawing on the board and asked how to spell my name. M-A-SS-I-E. I turn from my desk to see what she wrote and saw 'Mrs. Massive' written on the board [an honest mistake, not a cruel 4th grader]. I quickly corrected her and jokingly discussed how horrible it'd be to have that name. End of conversation. That night when I went through a stack of drawings from the students and saw one that made me laugh: To: Mrs. Massive *big heart* From: T' :-D At least the drawing was created before I corrected her.

Until next time, with more stories or more musings...

Thursday, April 1

Finally a post...

So it has been over a year since I have updated on here, but when I created the blog the only promise I made was that I wouldn't make any promises about keeping it updated. So I guess I held true to that promise at least, right?! :) Anyways since it's been so long there's lots of updating that could be done, but I'd rather just jump into this and start with what's fresher on my mind: My husband is great. And that's not an April Fool's Joke either! ;)

I know a lot of people would agree that his/her significant other is great and w
onderful, and I believe them because they likely are, but in the last 24 h
ours when I think about Chris' greatness it's because of a lack of my own. Here's the little story:

Yesterday was a b-e-a-utiful day out so I was looking forward to Chris' lunch shift to be over so we could enjoy some tennis, our latest hobby. As C
hris neared Bluffton, I left the baseball game to meet him at the apartment to grab our tennis gear and we headed to the courts. Now I am the one who [nearly] always wants to play tennis. It's my current outside game of choice and so naturally I both look forward to it as well as talk s
ome smack leading up to it. We get out there and play the first game [we have our own modified rules because we don't know the real ones so a 'game' to us is to 21 and you have to win by 2] and of course Chris won. No surprise there, he usually does. This time though, not only did he win, but I also
felt as I sucked quite a bit. So it was time for game #2.

Game #2 started and about halfway through after I had thrown my racket and began tearing up, I stormed quickly walked off and declared 'I'm done!'. Chris chased the tennis ball that I hit as hard as I could in the opposite direction and then followed me back to the apartment at a [safe] distance. I didn't want to be talked to, I didn't want to be touched. I put my tennis stuff away, got a glass of agua, sat on the couch and flipped on the boob tube. Chris quietly sits next
to me and asked if I felt [physically] okay, then when I finished my glass of ice water, he offered to get me another. After a few more moments of my silence, I blurted out, 'WHY are you SO nice?!'

He put on a smile-smirk and responded, 'Because you aren't mad all the time.' And he's right, I am not mad all the time or even close, but I was being an awful big baby at the time.

This is just one thing that makes him so great, and while it's not an excuse for me to act irrationally, it commonly shows through when I do. I didn't quit playing tennis because I was physically hurt or was experiencing the side effects of the placebo pills, although the latter was true, I quit because I was mad. I was mad that I was the one who wanted to play tennis, yet I was the one who was getting my butt handed to me on a silver platter racquet. I had no excuse, but he loved me well through it.

Oh, and after supper we went out and played 3 more games of tennis. I lost, but the racquet never slid across the court and it was much more enjoyable for all!