We are failing.

We are failing our kids.
I'm writing this as a teacher, and a mom, and a person who loves kids.  We are failing them.
I proctored an eighth grade math EOG today.  I don't know any of these kids.  I laid eyes on them for the first time in my life today.  They came in to the classroom, some quiet, some eating, some loud, some skipping, some shuffling.  Ms. Jones, their teacher, was waiting on them.  They seemed to have a good rapport.  I liked her immediately.  When it was time to begin the test, she said "It's time to go silent." and every single kid got quiet.  For the next 186 minutes (three sixty minute work sessions, two three minute breaks) I slowly walked the classroom.  As soon as I realized I had kept the same pattern for a few times, I changed it up.  As you can imagine, there is a lot of time to think.  Between the occasional picking up a pencil, handing out more paper, or pointing to a child letting Ms. Jones know "I can't do that",  I started really looking at these kids.  They were a good-looking bunch of kids.  All had smiled at one point or another.  All worked diligently, making marks on their scratch paper, looking quizzically at their computer.  All came in seemingly wanting to put forth their best effort.  I fell in love with them, and they were no where close to mine.  But they were mine for those 186 minutes.  And I hope they know I believed in their ability to do their best.  I also know, we are failing them.
There were 32 kids total.  16 boys, 16 girls.  11 white, 11 black, the rest asian or hispanic or some other form of minority.  I felt that was a pretty good representation of this school.  Then I started thinking of them in more personal terms.  At some point one in five kids go hungry during the year.
(https://www.dosomething.org/facts/11-facts-about-hunger-us) That means there were probably five or six kids in that very class that weren't getting enough food.
Before 18, one in eight children experience neglect, emotional, or physical abuse. (Parenting 06/03/2014 03:34pm ET Updated June 03, 2014)  That means there were probably at least 4 children in that class that are currently being or were abused in some way.
According to census statistics, 23% of children are in single parent households.
(https://www.census.gov/newsroom/press-releases/2016/cb16-192.htm) That means about six children 
in the class are living with one parent.  
This all hurts my heart.  And I'm sure there are more atrocities that I'm missing.  Ms. Jones and I were 
a team for 186 minutes.  I think we did a good job for the math EOG.  But even if we were together all 
year, the two of us alone wouldn't even be able to scratch the surface of what these kids need.   They need 
counselors.  They need smaller class sizes so teachers can really spend time with them.  They don't need 
more testing.  They need more resources.  They need less stress.  They need us.  They deserve us. 
And we are failing them.

A Year Off

As soon as I heard the words, "You should consider taking a year off" I knew it was what I needed to do.  My mind said it was a ludicrous suggestion and something I would never follow through.  My heart said, you can, you should, and you will.  So I did.  It's been an amazing learning experience and school has been in session only three weeks.
Here are my lessons so far:
I can actually think about things.  It seems before I quit teaching (still not believing the words I write) my mind was always at least half full of teaching junk.  My kids, my classroom, the lessons, the paperwork, the technology, my team, and on and on forever.  When I knew I wasn't returning, all of that started to slowly empty.  And for the first time in a very long time I could fully focus on other things. My husband. My children. My house. Cooking. My pets. Reading. Sitting. Coffee. Tea (yes, I like both). 
I can actually learn new things. I didn't realize that I like to cook. I looked at cooking like a hole in the head - didn't want it, didn't need it.  When I got married, John taught me some new tricks which was fun. However he continued to do most of the cooking or talked me through what needed to be done before he got home. I began cooking almost immediately when I knew I would be staying home.  I let John help me make a menu, then I would cook.  Then one day I wanted to make the menu, and cook.  Then one day I wanted to try a new dish, and I did TWO new dishes in one week!  Then I decided I would take over the menu and cook what I wanted. It has been fabulous.  I like cooking. I have some good cooking instincts. And most of my dishes have been well received! My best friend still doesn't believe me.
I can actually feel the rhythm of the house. There is one.  I didn't really know that. I was so busy trying to keep to my own rhythm that I didn't have time to listen to the rhythm of the house.  I like hearing it. I like being a part of it. I am learning how to flow with it.
I can actually hear what my dogs (and sometimes even the cat) are thinking. Go ahead. Stop reading because now you know I'm a nut. It's ok. No loss here. But recently I decided I don't need an animal communicator. I know what my dogs would say to me. They want to live in the house full time. They want more real meat. And they want me to live outside with them. Who needs more? In all seriousness, it's easy to become out of touch with your pets. And they are the line we all need to remember that we're part of nature. We all breathe. We all love the sun. And we are all social. Spend time with your pets and notice how they react to you. It's a great feeling.
I can actually pray and listen. I keep hearing words from songs we sing at church running through my head. I wasn't sure why. Then I realized it was my way of connecting to God. Not that I don't pray, I do. And I read the bible. But having more room in my head now makes more room for Him. I'm so grateful for that. 
I can actually decide how full my head is. This has been a huge learning experience. One I won't forget. Even when I decide to return to teaching, I know that it doesn't have to take up ALL the room. I decide what is in my thoughts.  The big question is - will I still like cooking?

My sweet family.
My sweet first graders.
How can anyone live in both worlds simultaneously and not have their heart burst?
The first picture doesn't even include the two boyfriends of our daughters - who have become an important part of our family.
The second picture doesn't show what amazing, wonderful, sweet, smart, fun, and funny kids these are.
Anyone looking at them would think, "Oh, just a family."  and "Oh, another class at some school."
And they would be right.
Except for the fact that I am a daughter of the King, a wife, a mom, and DaMa.
Except for the fact that I am THE "Ms. Mizera".
My heart is full.
And my heart aches.

It's Been A While

Yes, it has been a while.  And life is good.  And fun.  And romantic.  And silly.  And crazy.
And tiresome.  I am one of the blessed people I know - without a doubt.  And, I know from where my blessings flow.  Thank you, God.
However, tonight, I am going to vent.
My Father, Dennis, is an alcoholic.  A severe alcoholic who cannot get it together at the age of 65.  I have tried to be as supportive as I can and let him know I'm always here and I will always love him and will always be his daughter.  However, I just don't feel like I can keep up the charade.  I want to yell at him.  I want to swear at him and tell him exactly how I feel about his alcoholism and his lies and his unavailability.  I have talked and listened and sympathized until I feel fed up.  Now, I'm just mad.
Last week, he read texts that his girlfriend and I have been sending so I can try and keep up with how he is doing.  He said he felt betrayed by the fact I was texting her.  He felt betrayed.  HE.  FELT BETRAYED.  Let me tell you some things about betrayal.
Betrayal is leaving my mother when I was 6 months old to marry someone else.  Betrayal is only seeing me and bringing me into your life when it was convenient for you or made you look good to some woman.  Betrayal is never paying my mother a dime of child support because you promised to pay for college.  Betrayal is deciding that you shouldn't have to pay for college.  Betrayal is telling me that paying for my own college is something that would make me stronger and more appreciative.  Betrayal is telling me that little story, even though your parents paid for your technical college.  Betrayal is cheating on EVERY SINGLE woman you were ever with - and ruining incredible relationships with women who truly loved me.  Betrayal is calling me for my birthday twice in 45 years.  Betrayal is caring more about yourself than you care about anyone else.  Betrayal is saying you want to be a father, and a grandfather, then putting that bottle of booze to your lips again, and again, and again, and again.  Betrayal is drinking yourself to death, even though you SWORE you wouldn't because that is what your brother did and you had to live for HIM now.  You know what betrayal is, Dad?  Betrayal is you.  
Betrayal is you.  I choose not to be a part of it.

Summer Break

Each summer I take the kids to the beach. This is the third year I have taken on that amazing adventure and this time I had three kids instead of two. My ten year old niece came to enjoy the ocean. She had never been, so we all got to be part of the introduction. This is one of my favorite parts of summer. I never thought I would be one to travel alone with children, but I do it and I like it. There are always bumps in the road, I tend to get frustrated with whining and wants, the kids get frustrated with my "everything has a place" mentality. (It helps to keep me sane). However going to the beach is a highlight of the summer and I plan on continuing to make this trip every year. Maybe some day I won't be the only adult in our party. For now, though, I hold tight to God and he watches over me. And, the fun is had by all.

Asheville NC

Daycationing in Asheville; going the the Biltmore for the first time. I'm named it "the Big House" so that's what my four year old is calling it. Did you know POTUS is vactioning here this weekend? I don't know that I've ever been this close to seeing one in person. Hmmmm, vacationing with the President. Wouldn't THAT be a story for my kids at school?!!

Visitation

Sometimes the best part of visiting family is the anticipation. I realize this, but somehow I still cannot stifle the disappointment when a twelve hour drive with a four year old to a place I adore results in mostly feeling like I'd rather be home. Why is that? Why can't I just let go and enjoy? Maybe because my four year old was plagued with allergies and I felt responsible. Maybe because my 10 month old niece is growing so fast and I'm missing it. Maybe because I really don't fit in the north anymore after having been in the south over 15 years. Maybe because I was too worried about being judged and therefore was judged as being too worried. Maybe because I'm getting too old to do the long distance car thing. Maybe, just maybe, I would simply rather be home. I guess it really doesn't matter. The emotional pain stings no matter what the reason. I'll wait a couple of months, until school is over and/or a family event calls my name, then I'll do it all again. Except, maybe next time I'll fly...............