Christmas Away from "Home"

These days, I have really been feeling the Christmas spirit. Friday is our last day of school before our big holiday break, everyone in my neighborhood has their houses dressed to the nines in lights, my house is decorated and our mini tree glows with lights every evening. Michael and I have even received and opened our Christmas presents from Santa (aka: my parents).

Wait! What? We already opened our presents from "Santa"?!

Yeah..

This year for the first time in my entire life, I will be spending Christmas away from my parents' home.

Away from my family.

Away from my childhood friends.

Away from all of my favorite Christmas traditions.

This summer when Michael's mom approached me about spending Christmas with their family I wasn't surprised. I expected it. I knew that it was about time we grace the other side of the family with our presence on Christmas.

But that didn't make it any easier for me. In fact, at the time, I even shed a tiny tear over the impending loss of Christmas as I know it.

I'm not going to lie or candycoat. The truth of the matter is that spending Christmas away from my family is a huge deal for me. But I also know that Michael leaves for Afghanistan for a year in a few months and his family deserves to have that special time with him before he leaves.

That's not to say, though, that I am dreading Christmas. I'm not. I'm excited. We will be spending the holidays in Arkansas with Michael's sister, her husband, our two nephews, and Michael's parents. I know that we will have a great time. I know that my five-year-old and 2 and a half year-old nephews will make Christmas Day special. I know that my sister-in-law will prepare and serve a delicious Christmas meal. I know we will have lots of laughs and even go on an adventure or two.

I'm sure this Christmas will be wonderful. It just won't be my traditional Christmas. And I won't get to be with my family this year. That's the part I'm having a little bit of trouble with.

I guess it's time for me to grow up, though. Because if you ask me, nothing says "grown up" like Christmas away from "home".

Undercover Blog Readers

I must say... I'm a bit disappointed with the results of the hair poll I posted on my blog recently.

I'm not disappointed with the quality of the answers I received; I'm disappointed with the quantity of the answers I received.

I have a statcounter for my blog; therefore, I am fully aware of the fact that I have more readers than the 4 people who comment on it.

I've often considered a post such as this in the past, questioning why I have so many "undercover" readers. But, I worried I might scare people away, and I certainly don't want to do that.

The thing is, I would really like to hear from you, the ones who regularly visit my blog but never say "hello".

I wonder who you are. I wonder what keeps you coming back. I wonder.

So, next time you stop in, don't be shy. Drop me a line. It will make my day.

The Wisdom I Impart

Yesterday evening we had a Christmas event at my school. I was in my classroom beforehand, and in walked a student who had been in 8th grade my first year teaching at the school.

We got to talking, and somehow or other she brought up in conversation something she remembered that I had told her class...

She remembered that I had told them that on the East Coast Carl's Jr. is called Hardees.

Oh, did I have a laugh over that one.

Of all the wisdom I impart on a daily basis, more often than not, these are the kinds of things my students remember.

In the past, students who have stopped in to visit have reminisced with me about the time in class when a student gave an answer and I responded, "That's just alright for me, Dawg" (a reference to Randy Jackson on American Idol).

Or, the time I referred to the shabby town in a novel we were reading as a "crappy" town... (little did I know, these kids think "crappy" is a bad word)

Or the time my husky ran away (don't worry, we found him). Apparently, I was rather shaken the next day from the whole experience, because that's something that seems to be imprinted in every one of my ex-students' minds.

Or that chicken and potatoes is my favorite meal. And I'm allergic to apples.

Or the time someone knocked on the back door of the classroom when the front door was wide open. I yelled at one of my students who started to approach the back door thinking he was going to answer it when in actuality he was immersed in reading his book, completely unaware of the fact that he was being scolded by me, and was not planning to open the door at all, but rather, was on his way to throw a tissue into the garbage can. We all had a long laugh over that one, and the students who were there remember it well.

It's funny the things these students notice and remember.

During my first year as a teacher my students brought it to my attention that I sigh a lot.

This year, one of my students informed me that I bite the inside of my cheeks when I am thinking. Indeed, I do. I had never noticed before. Now I can't stop noticing.

I guess what I can say is at least they're paying attention. Somewhere between American Idol and Carl's Jr. I must be slipping some useful knowledge in there somewhere.

Atleast, that's what I'm going to keep telling myself.

The Right Thing

Today I am feeling proud of myself.

Unfortunately, though, I cannot be specific in explaining why.

What I can tell you is that there was a very serious situation at my work that I became aware of and did something about.

It was really scary. Doing the right thing often is. In fact, my heart was beating so fast and hard in my chest, I could hardly get my words out while doing the "right thing".

But, I did it.

I did it because, in the end, for the well-being of my students I had to. I guess, in the end, I didn't see that it was much of a choice.

Hell may or may not break loose at my school in the coming weeks. But, the students will be out of harm's way, and that is the most important thing.

Sacrifice

Sigh...


My family has officially departed the San Diego area. It was oh-so-wonderful having them here.


Every time my mom comes to visit, she helps to make my house feel more like a home. On her first visit she helped me pick out and put up curtains in my living room and kitchen. On another visit she helped me pick out wall color and wall decor for my living room. She has also helped me decorate my guest bedroom, cleaned my garage twice, helped me clean out our guest bedroom closet, strategically placed military trinkets over my kitchen cupboards, and too many other things to even mention. This trip she helped me pick out new accent pillows for my couch and helped me decorate for Christmas.


I would be amiss, though, if I were to leave out my dad's part in turning my house into a home. He was the one who actually painted my living room wall and spent endless hours in my dusty desert yard attempting to turn it into less of an eyesore.

But, this visit, I got the impression that my house feeling more like a home might not just have to do with accent pillows on the couch and the newly painted walls.


There's just something about the company of family and close friends that brings a different feeling to my house. Having them here makes it feel like home.


One evening a few days ago, my parents, brother, and husband were scattered about the living room/kitchen area doing this or that. And, I started thinking about how nice it was to have all of them there. We weren't doing anything special; we were just there, together. Then, I started thinking about what it would feel like to have that more often - say - if I were to live just down the street from my family or just over in the next town. Somewhere close enough where it wouldn't be such a big, out of the ordinary deal for my parents and brother to be spending an evening at my house.


Don't get me wrong. I mean, I am happy with what I have and where I am.


It's just that every now and then, I spend a few moments thinking about what I have given up in order to lead this military life. It's difficult for me to miss out on family get-togethers, my nephew's every day growing up moments, my sister's pregnancy (and soon to be delivery of her 2nd child). It's tough when sickness/heartbreak/tough times strike the members of my family, and I'm not able to be there with them.


I am just thankful that the technology of today makes the world seem much smaller than it actually is.


Being a military wife is a sacrifice.


However,
It is also a grand adventure... one that has taken me places I never could have dreamed of. With that knowledge, I am content.

Thanksgiving Visitors

This year for Thanksgiving my brother and my parents flew into town. So far, the visit has been wonderful. The weather has been exquisite (with the exception of yesterday when it rained for the first time since May).

On Thanksgiving day my mom cooked our traditional dinner which was, of course, incredible. On Black Friday we ventured to a few stores to buy a couple of items. Then, we went and ate San Diego's famous fish tacos and took a hike at Torrey Pines State Park. Yesterday, my mom helped me decorate my house for Christmas and then her childhood best friend came in from LA for the evening and we took her to Old Town for some authentic Mexican food. Today, my brother's friend from LA is coming into town... but it sounds like the boys are going to go to a bar and watch football all day (BORING), so my mom and I have to come up with a plan.

All in all, I am shocked and dismayed that today is already Sunday and my vacation is basically over. Boo! My family will drop me off at work tomorrow and keep my car to venture into San Diego one last time before they go, and then they will head out of here on Tuesday.

It certainly does seem like these visits always go by way too quickly!

The only thing that could have made this Thanksgiving better would be if my sister, her hubby, and my nephew could have been here, too.

I hope you all had a nice Thanksgiving with family and friends.

A Day Gone Wrong... Very, Very Wrong

Today was one of those days....

It all began when Mike's alarm went off before 7:00 am. I screamed at him, and he supposedly turned it off. However, he must have just hit snooze because sooner than later that blasted thing went off again. This time, I figured if I wanted something done right I had to do it myself, so I scrambled over him to turn that thing off. In an unfortunate turn of events, though, in my haphazardness to turn off that wretched alarm clock (that had absolutely no business going off on a Saturday morning!), I kind of sort of kneed him in a place that guys don't appreciate very much. He awoke with a howl. After that, any notion I had of getting just a little bit more sleep went right down the drain. He was up, and sadly, so was I.

But that was okay, because I had big plans for the day. My brother and parents are arriving in just a few short days, so I was prepared for Operation Get the House Ready for Company to commence.

I really did have the greatest intentions. In fact, if I hadn't stepped on that metal dog brush I'm sure I would be kicking back right now, patting myself on the back and enjoying the fruits of my labor.

I'm getting a little bit ahead of myself, though, so let me backtrack a bit.

First on my to-do list was to bathe and groom my dogs.

My husky went first. I bathed him, I brushed him, and when I was finished with both of those tasks I set down the metal dog brush and moved to get up from my position on the bathroom floor. However, I lost my balance and my left foot came down with all of my body weight behind it, right on top of that metal dog brush which to my dismay was laying teeth up.

The way I knew it was really bad was that I didn't feel any pain. All I was able to register was the sickening feeling of the dog brush coming loose from its placement inside of my foot. That's when I started to scream for Mike.

A small bit of chaos ensued. Michael had a little difficulty locating first aid supplies, I felt as though I was going to faint or throw up or both. I don't do too well with blood, even when it's mine.

Then Michael asked me when I last had a tetanus shot.

umm... high school?

Off to Urgent Care we went.

Oh what a day it was. And that, my friends, is why life is so darn interesting. Never in a million years could I ever have imagined that I would impale myself with a dog brush and spend the entirety of my day in Urgent Care.

Good Times.