Lately I have been in good spirits, thanks be to God. The last few weeks I have been enjoying a variety of substitute teaching assignments! As this is one of the last few days of school, there is a LOT going on in the schools, so it has been exciting to be a part of end of year activities. Today and tomorrow I am subbing for a high school band teacher. This particular district is one of my favorites in which to sub. Unfortunately the teacher has some health concerns and cannot be here today OR tomorrow. I was reluctant at first to pick up the job, but it's been fun so far. It has definitely brought back a TON of wonderful memories from high school.
For me high school was NOT one of my favorite times of life. But what DID keep me going was the music I was involved in at school, particularly choir. It was such a cultural experience. I learned and laughed and had more fun than in any other classes. I got really close to some people since we had done music together since 7th grade. That's what I am reminded of here. Students just come in to the room and go as they please. You can tell they really have built a relationship with the teacher. I remember the choir room being my "safe haven" in high school. I would come in and eat my lunch there, do my homework and, of course, practice piano on the nice pianos!
I have the privilege of observing a combined rehearsal this morning of their big end of the year concert for graduation. Also, he has students coming in for lessons which I get to observe/listen, that is, IF they show up! I just talked to one graduating senior who told me today is her last day of school and she is having bittersweet feelings. Also, she will be going to Bethel where I attended! So it was positive.
That's what I love about what I do. I get to meet so many people. Who knows if I will ever see them again. But I am changed by individuals who I meet and these wonderful varying experiences God has given me! I hope I have made a small difference in the lives maybe a few of these kids (and adults) with whom I have worked!
Showing posts with label subbing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label subbing. Show all posts
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Thursday, March 18, 2010
What is on my Mind
Well, I had an interesting day today. A friend of mine, Bethany, ended up subbing at the same middle school with me and we actually team taught (I was the regular math sub and she was the ELL sub) just for one period. It was fun to see her and have someone to eat lunch with! Bethany and I go way back, but anyway, that's for a different day. IT was very bizarre for me to be "working" with her...She said the same thing.
Unfortunately, my day kind of went downhill after that. It is a very hard school, with students that are ethnically diverse and have lots of behavior problems. That probably would not be an issue if the periods weren't 85 minutes AND I did NOT recieve a prep (break) period NOR did I get paid for it. But I stuck it out and now I am fried. The last period was so intense. Kids talking, shrieking, laughing, yelling, coming in and leaving, throwing things, breaking things, all the while, I am trying to keep them on task. Luckily, there were kids from the high school that were helping. But I still felt like everything was going crazy. I spent the entire day taking huge deep breaths, but, of course, I messed up a lot. At the end of the day, a very large boy really scared me and ended up acting really inappropriately with a female student, so I got him out of the room. For the last fifteen minutes of the day, students were supposed to be cleaning up the trashed room. There was a broken sharpener smashed, little blue pieces all over the floor. Ripped papers. One student dumped a pile of ripped up papers over the head of another girl. Another girl dumped a bunch of little pieces of papers from her desk onto the floor. No idea why. It was-to say the least-chaotic. I found myself going into my usual out-of-body state. Like I was watching something out of a movie. I can't control it, but it is definitely real. The best part was getting my name changed from Ms. Bettger to Ms. Butt. Like they literally erased my name on the board and wrote that. Haha. I am just glad no one got seriously hurt and that my day is over. I made sure to leave a nice long note for the teacher, as I usually do.
Even though it was hard, I am now home and can laugh about it and know that I don't have to go back if I don't want to. (But I probably will.)And I was able to sit and relax on the deck on a beautiful afternoon with my roommates! And, believe it or not, the hardest days I have subbing, usually CANNOT compare with how EVERY SINGLE day was for me as a teacher of inner-city Kindergarten last year, that being, COMPLETE HELL. Yes, it's hard to believe I made it through nine months alive! THat's why I try to take these days as a treasure, these days I can come home, with no lesson planning, grading, classwork, parents to deal with, awww, yes. I can just relax, at least try to! Although I still feel like a failure a lot of the time as a sub and want to do a perfect job, I usually forget about it, whereas last year, I had a very unsupportive principal to deal with who was always breathing down my neck. (No wonder I didn't last at that school).
Another thing on my mind is, as always, marriage and babies. Yes, I found out when she showed up today, that my friend Bethany is having a baby. She and her husband got married last July. I am happy for them. I just still cannot believe it...(you would have to know the history behind me and Bethany but that is a book to one day be written !) A few years ago, I never would have guessed where she and I are today.
Besides just the wierdness of being with Bethany in a school classroom, I have to say I had a very familiar feeling of ... envy (that she is pregnant) ... creep over me subconsciously and tried to push it away. Again and again.
In fact, I laid in bed last night and thought (again) of all the young women in my life who have found their "perfect someone" and are now trying to or are having children. I tried so hard to pray for forgiveness for perhaps having negative thoughts toward them, but I could not help but feel the intense but very familiar pain. OF not measuring up. Even though, in my MIND, my worth has nothing to do with my status as a single, it will take maybe til my dying day to understand this in my heart. Especially when you work in a profession in which everyone is a woman, and all they talk about is marriage and baby raising...
Bleh. Deep breath. I need to find some single women who share my pain! Luckily the tears aren't burying me alive like they were last night.
Unfortunately, my day kind of went downhill after that. It is a very hard school, with students that are ethnically diverse and have lots of behavior problems. That probably would not be an issue if the periods weren't 85 minutes AND I did NOT recieve a prep (break) period NOR did I get paid for it. But I stuck it out and now I am fried. The last period was so intense. Kids talking, shrieking, laughing, yelling, coming in and leaving, throwing things, breaking things, all the while, I am trying to keep them on task. Luckily, there were kids from the high school that were helping. But I still felt like everything was going crazy. I spent the entire day taking huge deep breaths, but, of course, I messed up a lot. At the end of the day, a very large boy really scared me and ended up acting really inappropriately with a female student, so I got him out of the room. For the last fifteen minutes of the day, students were supposed to be cleaning up the trashed room. There was a broken sharpener smashed, little blue pieces all over the floor. Ripped papers. One student dumped a pile of ripped up papers over the head of another girl. Another girl dumped a bunch of little pieces of papers from her desk onto the floor. No idea why. It was-to say the least-chaotic. I found myself going into my usual out-of-body state. Like I was watching something out of a movie. I can't control it, but it is definitely real. The best part was getting my name changed from Ms. Bettger to Ms. Butt. Like they literally erased my name on the board and wrote that. Haha. I am just glad no one got seriously hurt and that my day is over. I made sure to leave a nice long note for the teacher, as I usually do.
Even though it was hard, I am now home and can laugh about it and know that I don't have to go back if I don't want to. (But I probably will.)And I was able to sit and relax on the deck on a beautiful afternoon with my roommates! And, believe it or not, the hardest days I have subbing, usually CANNOT compare with how EVERY SINGLE day was for me as a teacher of inner-city Kindergarten last year, that being, COMPLETE HELL. Yes, it's hard to believe I made it through nine months alive! THat's why I try to take these days as a treasure, these days I can come home, with no lesson planning, grading, classwork, parents to deal with, awww, yes. I can just relax, at least try to! Although I still feel like a failure a lot of the time as a sub and want to do a perfect job, I usually forget about it, whereas last year, I had a very unsupportive principal to deal with who was always breathing down my neck. (No wonder I didn't last at that school).
Another thing on my mind is, as always, marriage and babies. Yes, I found out when she showed up today, that my friend Bethany is having a baby. She and her husband got married last July. I am happy for them. I just still cannot believe it...(you would have to know the history behind me and Bethany but that is a book to one day be written !) A few years ago, I never would have guessed where she and I are today.
Besides just the wierdness of being with Bethany in a school classroom, I have to say I had a very familiar feeling of ... envy (that she is pregnant) ... creep over me subconsciously and tried to push it away. Again and again.
In fact, I laid in bed last night and thought (again) of all the young women in my life who have found their "perfect someone" and are now trying to or are having children. I tried so hard to pray for forgiveness for perhaps having negative thoughts toward them, but I could not help but feel the intense but very familiar pain. OF not measuring up. Even though, in my MIND, my worth has nothing to do with my status as a single, it will take maybe til my dying day to understand this in my heart. Especially when you work in a profession in which everyone is a woman, and all they talk about is marriage and baby raising...
Bleh. Deep breath. I need to find some single women who share my pain! Luckily the tears aren't burying me alive like they were last night.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Car accidents, earthquakes, and my Job as a Caregiver
Yesterday I awoke to see that I had a missed call from my mom. I remember hearing it ring as I was just beginning to fall asleep the night before. So I immediately thought something bad happened since the call was from 10 pm and my mom knows I got to sleep early. But she almost always leaves a message; this time she didn’t. And when it’s bad news, it’s a sinister voice saying, “Hi honey. Please call when you can.” I’ve heard that voice one too many times. The more sinister and firm, usually the more serious the occasion. So of course, I was nervous. I called and got no response from either Mom or Dad's cell phones, so my head started spinning. I was so worried something horrible had happened. Luckily my mom called a couple minutes later. Sure enough my brother Greg was in a car accident on his way home from work the night before but he is okay. I was still so worked up and anxious I could barely calm down and started crying on the phone with my mom not even noticing. (Ever since Christmas night, tears have come on suddenly, forcefully. When they start, it is like a warm blanket cascading down. So needed and comfortable at first. I have to let out all that pain, that pain so real, raw, indescribable pain. I can’t even put into words. There was no tragedy, just an imagined one, but everything comes back so easily for me. Probably for most people that have had a loss, an almost-loss, or some sort of traumatizing event happen to them. These get relived through little things, like phone calls and voices. They plague and imprint your mind and you can never forget. Add on to that the fact that I simply cry easily and get down extremely quickly. Call it a season. Call it depression. Call it Brittany. Whatever. I go through periods where I am more dried up; now is not one of those periods.)
Anyway, I also called Greg but not on an impulse. It was a carefully planned event. Should I say painfully thought-over. That’s my mind for you: What if he answers? What if he doesn’t? What am I going to be doing while I talk to him? If I don’t do something at the same time, I will be late to work. What if we talk too long? What if I say the wrong thing? But my phone is dead; maybe it won’t be charged enough to talk. Maybe I shouldn’t call him. I’ll probably be bothering him. If I don’t, what kind of sister am I? Why didn’t he call me after the accident?
Finally, I got my breakfast ready and told my thoughts to shut up because they were still going. He answered after the first ring and immediately said, “Hi, how have you been doing?” as if nothing had happened. My brother Greg is always one who gives. When we talk, he hardly ever talks about himself. And, I am one who, when given a listening ear, can never shut up. But today, I didn’t want to focus on this pain. How dare I turn his scary accident into my own problem? Augh! I hate when I do that. So I didn’t mention me, but kept probing about how he was. I knew it was better for me that way. He assured me he was fine so that was good to hear, but I was still so anxious and troubled. He told me a little bit about the accident that involved four vehicles. His car was totaled, and so were some of the others but everyone was okay. I should be praising God, right? I tried to amidst my soft, cracking voice and brewing tears. I could barely eat my breakfast. Before he hung up, he said “Well, I am so glad to hear you are doing okay.” As if I were the one in the accident. But he was positive and I tried to feel it too. Maybe I was okay. If I just talked myself into it…I knew I could change these thoughts, this horrible sinking feeling in my gut. It just got deeper and the nausea grew. But I forced down the cereal and coffee as I said “I love you” to Greg and hung up.
Believe it or not, I had a pretty good day after that-once I got to work. Yesterday, I worked with my friend Maddie. She is a young woman with special needs who lives at home with her parents and siblings. It has its challenges, but I think it’s one of the best jobs in the world. I knew Maddie would want to know all about my family. She always gets my brothers mixed up (who doesn’t, though?). “How’s Nate doing? Is he the one in Germany?” “Nope remember you met Nate and Kat when there were in town over Christmas.” “Oh yeah! How are they?! They are so nice. I mean so sweet! Can you tell them I said hi?”
It’s hard to hang out with Maddie, take care of her, help her and learn from her, when I am so buried in my thoughts. But, luckily, I force myself to. I take her out to the library, book stores, coffee shops, plays, and her favorite: the animal shelter. I love seeing how she responds to different situations and how personable she is with complete strangers (of course, that can be dangerous, so I’m there to redirect her if needed.) But if I am ever too afraid to ask for something, no worries, Maddie has few inhibitions. She doesn’t worry about what people think of her. I have a lot to learn.
Of course, Maddie is quite vulnerable. I know she gets sad too. In my role helping people with disabilities, I have connected with them probably the deepest when I am sad. I don’t want to say my depression is a gift, but I know that there is nothing like crying with someone and truly feeling his or her pain. Yesterday, we talked a little bit about the earthquake in Haiti. That particular subject had been haunting me the past day and I was still feeling down from the morning occurrence so I didn’t really feel like talking about it. Luckily, Maddie’s soothing chatter turned elsewhere and quickly (which is quite common).
I enjoyed my time with her the rest of the day. And also, at ACR later in which I just did a short shift at one of the two homes where I work. Some people with depression can’t work. I am the lucky one. I work to survive. At least in combination with other much-needed things like a faith and spirituality that consumes me, healthy food, enough water, exercise, psychotherapy and a strong community of friends. In my role as teacher and caregiver, I am distracted, able to put my mind and body to use and not focus on myself and my sadness.
I am extremely affected by sad stories in the news or from family, friends, etc., so with the recent events in Haiti, I have been as down as ever, but not necessarily joyless. Sometimes, I wonder, as I walk into a classroom of bouncy teens, or giggly, squirrelly first graders, or as I look into the deep eyes of one of the residents, Shouldn’t the world stop? How can I be giving a bath or teaching about the Civil War when there are people dying, gasping for air under feet of rubble, crying out for relief. And as Greg Boyd said, will probably never be found because of their lack of resources in that already-impoverished country. But, no, life doesn’t stop. And, as I always try to do, I put myself in the shoes of those I serve. How are they thinking? How can I make life better for them? Life goes and on and will continue to go on in Haiti, but also here. So I need to stay in the moment and be here for these innocent children/adults who are dealing with this tragic news in their own way, or maybe not-maybe they have no idea but I need to make life comfortable for them. How is this possible when I have a hard time caring for myself, that I can be so focused on others? But this thinking is what is actually the most freeing for me, the times I feel most liberated from my depression.
Anyway, I also called Greg but not on an impulse. It was a carefully planned event. Should I say painfully thought-over. That’s my mind for you: What if he answers? What if he doesn’t? What am I going to be doing while I talk to him? If I don’t do something at the same time, I will be late to work. What if we talk too long? What if I say the wrong thing? But my phone is dead; maybe it won’t be charged enough to talk. Maybe I shouldn’t call him. I’ll probably be bothering him. If I don’t, what kind of sister am I? Why didn’t he call me after the accident?
Finally, I got my breakfast ready and told my thoughts to shut up because they were still going. He answered after the first ring and immediately said, “Hi, how have you been doing?” as if nothing had happened. My brother Greg is always one who gives. When we talk, he hardly ever talks about himself. And, I am one who, when given a listening ear, can never shut up. But today, I didn’t want to focus on this pain. How dare I turn his scary accident into my own problem? Augh! I hate when I do that. So I didn’t mention me, but kept probing about how he was. I knew it was better for me that way. He assured me he was fine so that was good to hear, but I was still so anxious and troubled. He told me a little bit about the accident that involved four vehicles. His car was totaled, and so were some of the others but everyone was okay. I should be praising God, right? I tried to amidst my soft, cracking voice and brewing tears. I could barely eat my breakfast. Before he hung up, he said “Well, I am so glad to hear you are doing okay.” As if I were the one in the accident. But he was positive and I tried to feel it too. Maybe I was okay. If I just talked myself into it…I knew I could change these thoughts, this horrible sinking feeling in my gut. It just got deeper and the nausea grew. But I forced down the cereal and coffee as I said “I love you” to Greg and hung up.
Believe it or not, I had a pretty good day after that-once I got to work. Yesterday, I worked with my friend Maddie. She is a young woman with special needs who lives at home with her parents and siblings. It has its challenges, but I think it’s one of the best jobs in the world. I knew Maddie would want to know all about my family. She always gets my brothers mixed up (who doesn’t, though?). “How’s Nate doing? Is he the one in Germany?” “Nope remember you met Nate and Kat when there were in town over Christmas.” “Oh yeah! How are they?! They are so nice. I mean so sweet! Can you tell them I said hi?”
It’s hard to hang out with Maddie, take care of her, help her and learn from her, when I am so buried in my thoughts. But, luckily, I force myself to. I take her out to the library, book stores, coffee shops, plays, and her favorite: the animal shelter. I love seeing how she responds to different situations and how personable she is with complete strangers (of course, that can be dangerous, so I’m there to redirect her if needed.) But if I am ever too afraid to ask for something, no worries, Maddie has few inhibitions. She doesn’t worry about what people think of her. I have a lot to learn.
Of course, Maddie is quite vulnerable. I know she gets sad too. In my role helping people with disabilities, I have connected with them probably the deepest when I am sad. I don’t want to say my depression is a gift, but I know that there is nothing like crying with someone and truly feeling his or her pain. Yesterday, we talked a little bit about the earthquake in Haiti. That particular subject had been haunting me the past day and I was still feeling down from the morning occurrence so I didn’t really feel like talking about it. Luckily, Maddie’s soothing chatter turned elsewhere and quickly (which is quite common).
I enjoyed my time with her the rest of the day. And also, at ACR later in which I just did a short shift at one of the two homes where I work. Some people with depression can’t work. I am the lucky one. I work to survive. At least in combination with other much-needed things like a faith and spirituality that consumes me, healthy food, enough water, exercise, psychotherapy and a strong community of friends. In my role as teacher and caregiver, I am distracted, able to put my mind and body to use and not focus on myself and my sadness.
I am extremely affected by sad stories in the news or from family, friends, etc., so with the recent events in Haiti, I have been as down as ever, but not necessarily joyless. Sometimes, I wonder, as I walk into a classroom of bouncy teens, or giggly, squirrelly first graders, or as I look into the deep eyes of one of the residents, Shouldn’t the world stop? How can I be giving a bath or teaching about the Civil War when there are people dying, gasping for air under feet of rubble, crying out for relief. And as Greg Boyd said, will probably never be found because of their lack of resources in that already-impoverished country. But, no, life doesn’t stop. And, as I always try to do, I put myself in the shoes of those I serve. How are they thinking? How can I make life better for them? Life goes and on and will continue to go on in Haiti, but also here. So I need to stay in the moment and be here for these innocent children/adults who are dealing with this tragic news in their own way, or maybe not-maybe they have no idea but I need to make life comfortable for them. How is this possible when I have a hard time caring for myself, that I can be so focused on others? But this thinking is what is actually the most freeing for me, the times I feel most liberated from my depression.
My morning
My head is spinning out of control. With so many ideas. As always. I can't think of one thing to write about, so I will just start with my unusual morning. Well, not that unusual I guess. As a substitute, I am starting to learn the ropes. I have acquainted myself with some of the schools and districts so this morning, I knew that although the call I accepted said to be there at 7:30 I would shoot to be there around 7, since school starts at 7:55. How in the world would 20 minutes be enough time to get ready for teaching third grade?
So I got to this Columbia Heights school at what felt like the middle of the night because of how dark it was. The first wierd thing was that there were hardly any cars there. I wonder why no one is here, I thought. As a Kindergarten teacher in inner city St. Paul last year, I would get to school sometimes at 6:30 (it was always a competition in my own mind to see if I could get there before my teaching partner who lived twice as far away...) and school didn't start til 9:10!
Of course the side doors were locked so I walked around to the front and opened the doors to hear a blaring country station and a dark school office. Great, it was locked. I couldn't check in, get the key to the classroom and begin planning my day. As often happens, my overachievement is purposeless. So I just sat outside that office. Pretty soon the teachers started coming but they looked rather casual with jeans on and none were carrying endless bags or suitcases like most elementary teachers. I'd been to this school before and don't remember having to wait like this. Many people walked by me; some gave me a glance or a half smile. I knew I was early so I just politely waited another half hour until my head started pounding because of the ANNOYING radio (literally deafening!) Now it was fifteen minutes til school actually started (not that the kids came, that is). Finally I asked someone--a lady who'd walked by me three times now with not so much as an acknowledgment, "Do you know when the secretary will be coming?" She looked at her watch-not too rudely-"She is usually here by now..." and then offered a nervous laugh.
AFter a bathroom run (oh it was warm and the country music was muffled...I should have just stayed in there!) and a lot of wandering, more and more people came by. Every one I thought, as jangling keys got closer and closer, it must be the secretary. This is wierd. And rude. But I kept trying to have positive thoughts. I had waited 40 minutes.
Finally, a lady in purple who I'd seen pulling a paper shredder across the hallway and up the stairs, was now on her way back down the stairs with the shredder. Surely, she will notice that I'm still here (I'd first seen her around 7:10) and she did. She walked pulling the shredder along as if it was her little pet-kind of bent over-and looked up at me with a wrinkled nose. Yes, I am noticed! I thought. "Do you know who you're waiting for?" I said, "Um, yes. For the office to be unlocked." She looked at me with an even-more furrowed brow. I don't think I looked too wierd. I had had my head in my hands so my hair was maybe a little ruffled. So I kept going. "So I can get a room key. I am a sub." Okay, now she was staring at me as if I were other-worldly. "But...there's no kids today." She blurted quickly as if I should have known. "Oh...I was wondering..."
Anyway, it turns out there was no school. So I left, now with a splitting headache. Oh well. I still got paid for two hours! And now I am sitting at my home computer writing on here.
I have a lot on my mind. I was a little mad (mostly because the music annoyed me...I didn't mind the driving and people-observing that much), but now I'm not. There are lot more important things I could be (and am) upset about-like the earthquake.
So I got to this Columbia Heights school at what felt like the middle of the night because of how dark it was. The first wierd thing was that there were hardly any cars there. I wonder why no one is here, I thought. As a Kindergarten teacher in inner city St. Paul last year, I would get to school sometimes at 6:30 (it was always a competition in my own mind to see if I could get there before my teaching partner who lived twice as far away...) and school didn't start til 9:10!
Of course the side doors were locked so I walked around to the front and opened the doors to hear a blaring country station and a dark school office. Great, it was locked. I couldn't check in, get the key to the classroom and begin planning my day. As often happens, my overachievement is purposeless. So I just sat outside that office. Pretty soon the teachers started coming but they looked rather casual with jeans on and none were carrying endless bags or suitcases like most elementary teachers. I'd been to this school before and don't remember having to wait like this. Many people walked by me; some gave me a glance or a half smile. I knew I was early so I just politely waited another half hour until my head started pounding because of the ANNOYING radio (literally deafening!) Now it was fifteen minutes til school actually started (not that the kids came, that is). Finally I asked someone--a lady who'd walked by me three times now with not so much as an acknowledgment, "Do you know when the secretary will be coming?" She looked at her watch-not too rudely-"She is usually here by now..." and then offered a nervous laugh.
AFter a bathroom run (oh it was warm and the country music was muffled...I should have just stayed in there!) and a lot of wandering, more and more people came by. Every one I thought, as jangling keys got closer and closer, it must be the secretary. This is wierd. And rude. But I kept trying to have positive thoughts. I had waited 40 minutes.
Finally, a lady in purple who I'd seen pulling a paper shredder across the hallway and up the stairs, was now on her way back down the stairs with the shredder. Surely, she will notice that I'm still here (I'd first seen her around 7:10) and she did. She walked pulling the shredder along as if it was her little pet-kind of bent over-and looked up at me with a wrinkled nose. Yes, I am noticed! I thought. "Do you know who you're waiting for?" I said, "Um, yes. For the office to be unlocked." She looked at me with an even-more furrowed brow. I don't think I looked too wierd. I had had my head in my hands so my hair was maybe a little ruffled. So I kept going. "So I can get a room key. I am a sub." Okay, now she was staring at me as if I were other-worldly. "But...there's no kids today." She blurted quickly as if I should have known. "Oh...I was wondering..."
Anyway, it turns out there was no school. So I left, now with a splitting headache. Oh well. I still got paid for two hours! And now I am sitting at my home computer writing on here.
I have a lot on my mind. I was a little mad (mostly because the music annoyed me...I didn't mind the driving and people-observing that much), but now I'm not. There are lot more important things I could be (and am) upset about-like the earthquake.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Comfort Ye Others Just as You are Comforted
Last night I went to get an hour-long full body massage with hot stone therapy at a place nearby my house. I got a half-off deal in the mail! It was amazing! I'm glad I allowed myself to take care of myself that way. When she was doing my neck and shoulders she found I had knots up and down both sides of my neck that went all the way to the base of my skull. No wonder I've been in so much pain!
Anyway, the hot stones were the best because I was so cold, especially my poor bony fingers! I had so many knots and so much tension that she went an extra 15 minutes. I was able to really relax except the lotion she put on was a bit intense for my nose so I got a little headache. But people that are "too uncomfortable" to get massages like this don't know what they are missing!
I don't know what it is about me but I crave this skin on skin contact. I've always loved massage and got my first professional full body massage in high school when we used to have them included on my mom's insurance! I realized immediately that professional massages, just the ambience of it-everything-, was one of the only ways I can completely relax.
To get deep and spiritual, receiving a massage helps me connect with my body and realize again how beautiful I am. Also, just to be taken care of for once, ahhh, so nice. As I lay there yesterday, I thought of how I do physical therapy and massage/lotioning with the guys I take care of at the group home. I'm always worried I am doing it wrong, that maybe he is not comfortable. With the residents, they don't often communicate whether they are or are not comfortable. Because I received comfort yesterday as the receiver of massage, I was able to realize that yes, maybe I DO do a good job with the guys and maybe they enjoy my sloppy untrained attempts at PT and massage. More than that, though, I realize like my massage therapist, my first concern is for the other person.
Probably the best thing is helping my one resident get into bed at night. (Let's call him Cal.) Cal has a Parkinson's-like condition which makes him extremely exhausted and basically unresponsive as the day goes on. I just ache for him because he is so sleepy and often longs for his bed. I know all too well the feeling of being SO tired and having no energy to go through the process of getting to bed. Once Cal is finally all briefed, pajama-ed, lotioned and teeth-brushed, the next task is to get him to stand up from his wheelchair and take a few painful steps toward his bed, open and waiting for him. I, being a lover of my bed, can totally relate to his comfort in finally collapsing. Unfortunately, Cal is so weak that I have to reposition his rigid 150-lb body so that-to me-he looks comfortable and so that I, too, can receive comfort. Sometimes this is tough and requires him to stand and reposition himself a few more times (a process of a few minutes). Finally, finally he is looking cozy and I pull the sheet up, making sure it covers him evenly and then the comforter, tucking it under his droopy chin. I just see the release in his face and I feel it deep within. Rest. I know he's comfortable and at peace and that's the best feeling in the world.
To have that done to you every so often is great. That's why life is so beautiful. I am able to give because of the gifts Christ gives through others, whether it is a professional massage with hot stones, hugging and crying with a close friend, or a tiny child that you've known for less than a minute suddenly put her little hand in yours.
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in your patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort. 2 Cor. 1:3-7
Anyway, the hot stones were the best because I was so cold, especially my poor bony fingers! I had so many knots and so much tension that she went an extra 15 minutes. I was able to really relax except the lotion she put on was a bit intense for my nose so I got a little headache. But people that are "too uncomfortable" to get massages like this don't know what they are missing!
I don't know what it is about me but I crave this skin on skin contact. I've always loved massage and got my first professional full body massage in high school when we used to have them included on my mom's insurance! I realized immediately that professional massages, just the ambience of it-everything-, was one of the only ways I can completely relax.
To get deep and spiritual, receiving a massage helps me connect with my body and realize again how beautiful I am. Also, just to be taken care of for once, ahhh, so nice. As I lay there yesterday, I thought of how I do physical therapy and massage/lotioning with the guys I take care of at the group home. I'm always worried I am doing it wrong, that maybe he is not comfortable. With the residents, they don't often communicate whether they are or are not comfortable. Because I received comfort yesterday as the receiver of massage, I was able to realize that yes, maybe I DO do a good job with the guys and maybe they enjoy my sloppy untrained attempts at PT and massage. More than that, though, I realize like my massage therapist, my first concern is for the other person.
Probably the best thing is helping my one resident get into bed at night. (Let's call him Cal.) Cal has a Parkinson's-like condition which makes him extremely exhausted and basically unresponsive as the day goes on. I just ache for him because he is so sleepy and often longs for his bed. I know all too well the feeling of being SO tired and having no energy to go through the process of getting to bed. Once Cal is finally all briefed, pajama-ed, lotioned and teeth-brushed, the next task is to get him to stand up from his wheelchair and take a few painful steps toward his bed, open and waiting for him. I, being a lover of my bed, can totally relate to his comfort in finally collapsing. Unfortunately, Cal is so weak that I have to reposition his rigid 150-lb body so that-to me-he looks comfortable and so that I, too, can receive comfort. Sometimes this is tough and requires him to stand and reposition himself a few more times (a process of a few minutes). Finally, finally he is looking cozy and I pull the sheet up, making sure it covers him evenly and then the comforter, tucking it under his droopy chin. I just see the release in his face and I feel it deep within. Rest. I know he's comfortable and at peace and that's the best feeling in the world.
To have that done to you every so often is great. That's why life is so beautiful. I am able to give because of the gifts Christ gives through others, whether it is a professional massage with hot stones, hugging and crying with a close friend, or a tiny child that you've known for less than a minute suddenly put her little hand in yours.
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in your patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort. 2 Cor. 1:3-7
Friday, January 8, 2010
Today
I got one call for subbing today. Technology ed at a local "close-to" inner city high school. And I just sat there staring at the phone and then logged on to the website and stared at it. Pretty soon someone will take it and I won't have to make a decision. Well, I could have a job today. But, of course, in a few minutes, the job was no longer available because of my inactivity. I pictured myself supervising a bunch of young men (and women) doing woodwork or something...it wasn't really fear it was just...inactivity. That's what I do when I don't want to make a decision. Now I don't have a choice.
I am not working today and I am trying not to say, "You should have" every two seconds.
I am in a lot of pain, physical especially. The last three days or so I have experienced lots of muscle tension in my neck and back. Trying to stretch and exercise on Wednesday seemed to make it worse. OF course, the common thought was "You're doing somethin wrong." And then, "You're fine. Suck it up." Then, "What if something's really wrong?" THen I used my roomie Jen's massager and nwo it's really sore!!! So I scheduled a massage (since it's half off) at a nearby place for today at 5! I am excited for that "me" time although I still feel guilty for not working. I hope the massage doesn't make the pain worse. That I am really able to relax.
More on my depression in the next post...since I have the whole day ahead of me...
I am not working today and I am trying not to say, "You should have" every two seconds.
I am in a lot of pain, physical especially. The last three days or so I have experienced lots of muscle tension in my neck and back. Trying to stretch and exercise on Wednesday seemed to make it worse. OF course, the common thought was "You're doing somethin wrong." And then, "You're fine. Suck it up." Then, "What if something's really wrong?" THen I used my roomie Jen's massager and nwo it's really sore!!! So I scheduled a massage (since it's half off) at a nearby place for today at 5! I am excited for that "me" time although I still feel guilty for not working. I hope the massage doesn't make the pain worse. That I am really able to relax.
More on my depression in the next post...since I have the whole day ahead of me...
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Subbing
I am sitting here at 5:50 on a chilly October morning waiting for the phone to ring to offer me a subbing job. I am getting the hang of this subbing thing. I usually obsessively check by calling the three numbers, the Kelly Staffing number which offers me the best hope since there are about 5 school districts I could get a job with. Then there is Mounds View and Forest Lake, which I am independently a sub for but so far have not subbed as no jobs are ever available. It's literally a meat market. If I ever miss a phone call, I pretty much don't get the job as it is already taken; hence my obsessive calling. But if I don't end up working today that's okay since I worked 24 hours over the weekend!
I have really enjoyed substitute teaching. I have gotten a feel for what it might be like to teach high school for example. As one counselor at Spring Lake Park High School put it high schoolers are just "big little kids." And they are. But not really. They can do a whole lot more than Kindergartners, so that's why when I am really tired I prefer subbing for high school (11th or 12th) because they are so self-directed. But then again it could get boring so that's why Elementary is always good to switch things up.
My most amazing experience came last week when I somehow got ahold of a 2-day job at Wildwood Elementary in Mahtomedi. I was able to sub for the same first grade class for 2 days and had an amazing time! The main reason it was awesome is because the staff were so encouraging, helpful and kind. It is a K-2 school with about 8 sections of each grade, so still a pretty large elementary school! Anyway, the teacher's plans were quite detailed (always an amazing plus!) and the kids were quite well-behaved, according to me who is used to yelling, screaming, throwing chairs and tables, and physical fights (this was Kinder in inner city St. Paul). But anyway, all you have to do is say "Give me 5" and the entire class of 24 first graders will put their hands up and be totally quiet. It's amazing. Of course, they were a little crazy because they are 6 and 7-years-old so I used some songs and games I knew, and overall had everything under control. Mostly it was FUN and I had energy to enjoy myself!
The thing is, tons of staff complimented me on how good of a sub I was, and I felt like I hardly did anything...Anyway more on that later. This is too long! Well, maybe I will have a day off today!
I have really enjoyed substitute teaching. I have gotten a feel for what it might be like to teach high school for example. As one counselor at Spring Lake Park High School put it high schoolers are just "big little kids." And they are. But not really. They can do a whole lot more than Kindergartners, so that's why when I am really tired I prefer subbing for high school (11th or 12th) because they are so self-directed. But then again it could get boring so that's why Elementary is always good to switch things up.
My most amazing experience came last week when I somehow got ahold of a 2-day job at Wildwood Elementary in Mahtomedi. I was able to sub for the same first grade class for 2 days and had an amazing time! The main reason it was awesome is because the staff were so encouraging, helpful and kind. It is a K-2 school with about 8 sections of each grade, so still a pretty large elementary school! Anyway, the teacher's plans were quite detailed (always an amazing plus!) and the kids were quite well-behaved, according to me who is used to yelling, screaming, throwing chairs and tables, and physical fights (this was Kinder in inner city St. Paul). But anyway, all you have to do is say "Give me 5" and the entire class of 24 first graders will put their hands up and be totally quiet. It's amazing. Of course, they were a little crazy because they are 6 and 7-years-old so I used some songs and games I knew, and overall had everything under control. Mostly it was FUN and I had energy to enjoy myself!
The thing is, tons of staff complimented me on how good of a sub I was, and I felt like I hardly did anything...Anyway more on that later. This is too long! Well, maybe I will have a day off today!
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