Moving Day(s)

It's been awhile, hasn't it?

Moving is a lot of work, as it turns out.  Thank goodness for my terrific friends and family.  I don't know what I could've done without them.

On Friday night, Ashley suggested that we go ahead and clean the floors and counters in my new house and move over all of my kitchen things to get them unpacked.   It seemed like a reasonable idea.  We met at the new house and made a list of things (cleaning supplies, mostly) that I needed to buy.

I headed off to Wal-Mart to get said supplies while my friends went to my apartment to start loading things up.  I was gone for maybe thirty minutes, and by the time I got back to my apartment, they had loaded up ALL of my boxes... not just the kitchen ones.  Also, they had loaded up clothing and knick-knacks.  My apartment was nearly empty.

This was my armada of movers:

Here we are, unpacking the kitchen things.

Keith kept Harper entertained.

So did Jeff...

Ashley and I did the cleaning and unpacking

While Harper played with the newspaper

And Kelli and Keith just hung out.

By the end of the evening, we were pooped.

On Saturday, my official moving day, I met my movers across town to pick up a washer and dryer that I purchased from an elderly gentleman who was moving.  After a minor mix-up, we were back at my apartment loading up the moving van.

The rest of that day is kind of a blur, but what I remember most is how amazing my friends were.  While the moving truck unloaded my things, I stayed at the new house to start unpacking and rearranging.  During that time, Ashley and Amber went back to my apartment to get all the random extras that weren't packed yet.

The only picture I have from that day is this one:

It's Jeremy hooking up my washer and dryer.  He did an awesome job!

When I got back to my apartment at the end of the day to do some final clean-up, it looked like this:

My old living room.

My old kitchen.

My old bedroom.

It felt really strange to be there without any of my stuff.  The last time my apartment was empty, I viewed it as a place of promise... the first place of my own.  Now, it seems like such a dump.  It really was a nice apartment, but compared to my brand-new house, it doesn't even compare.

It wasn't until I saw the place like this that I truly became excited for my house.

And so, I walked out of Apartment #105 for the last time...

And I haven't looked back since.

"The Test"

Yesterday and today, my students are taking their state reading test.  "The test" is two days worth of reading passages and answering questions to check their understanding of the state standards.

For many, "the test" is something to be feared.  With current legislation, jobs can be lost and schools can be closed if results are consistently not meeting state expectations.

I, however, am not worried.  Together, my students and I have worked diligently this year to make sure we know those state standards forwards and backwards.  Not just because of "the test," but because they are things that the powers-that-be think that 6th graders need to know.  And not once did I utter the phrase, "...because you'll need to know it for the NeSA."  We, as teachers, don't even get to know what the test looks like or what will be on it.  We simply teach the state standards and hope that "the test" is an accurate measure of how well students know them.

The kids, however, know that many things ride on the results.  They know that "the test" can affect whether or not they are in differentiated classes or if they need to be placed into a reading intervention class.  They know that there is pressure for them to make our school look good.  They know their parents want to receive notification that they have "met" or "exceeded" the state expectations.  But it is my hope that they want to do well just for the sake of showing what they know and how much they've learned.

These kids are tested a lot.  And I know how much it frustrates them.  But this test, arguably the most important one they will take this year, has been better than I expected.  I worried about them feeling fatigued by all the testing.  I worried about them staying quiet while we waited for others to finish.  I worried about them rushing to finish.

None of those things have been an issue.  And I couldn't be more proud to be their teacher.

Teacher of the Year

I think you would be hard-pressed to find a teacher who couldn't name the teacher who most influenced them.  For me, this teacher's name is Mr. Barnard.

Mr. Barnard was my agriculture education teacher and FFA sponsor.  Yes, agriculture education was part of the curriculum in my hometown school.  Growing up, I wasn't raised on a farm, and I never intended to pursue a career in farming or agriculture, but I was eager to fill my resume with as many clubs and organizations as possible.  In my school, the FFA (formerly Future Farmers of America, presently the National FFA Organization) was the biggest and most active club in existence.  And Mr. Barnard was the driving force behind its success.  And only for him would I wear this awfully tacky jacket:

During my 8th grade year when Ag. Ed. was a required course, Mr. Barnard convinced me to compete in the district Ag Quiz Bowl competition.  Though I knew nothing at all about scientific names of livestock, gestation periods, ruminant stomachs, or types of grass, Mr. Barnard met with my teammates and I every morning before school to help us memorize all the information we would need to know.  We ended up winning districts that year and advancing to the state tournament.  Who would've thought?

During my freshman year of high school, there were more opportunities to compete.  Mr. Barnard asked for us to sign up for a livestock judging competition.  I was going to pass, as I knew nothing about any type of livestock, but I desperately wanted a free day out of school.  So, I signed up for poultry judging.  Again, with the thorough study materials and coaching from Mr. Barnard, I learned how to judge live birds, how to grade carcasses and broken-out eggs, how to candle eggs, and how to check for molt and measure a vent.  It's now both a blessing and a curse when I try to find the perfect carton of eggs in the store when I go grocery shopping.  I ended up placing first individually and as a team, which qualified us for the state competition.

This was the shock of my life.  And my parents were in even greater disbelief that their anti-farm, anti-small-town daughter who didn't even like to be without shoes and socks had outsmarted actual farm kids in a poultry competition.

At State, we also won first place, which advanced us to nationals.  And so, poultry judging became my livestock event-of-choice.  I went on to place or win at state for the next three years in a row, which earned me a trip to the National Convention in Louisville, Kentucky each year.

I also successfully competed in parliamentary procedure competitions, natural resources speaking, and agriculture sales (I am still quite well-versed in Scott's lawn care products).  With Mr. Barnard's coaching, I found success in all of these competitions.  And that's without even the slightest bit of prior knowledge.  This man works miracles, I tell you.

Besides the FFA contests, he taught me more skills related to agriculture than I thought I cared to know.  I now know about horticulture and floriculture, I know how to electrically wire switches, I can build a machine shed and shingle a roof, make things out of plywood, build a hog trough or a sawhorse, identify and use any and all kinds of tools... heck, I can even weld (arc, mig, and oxy acetylene).  Who knew?

Mr. Barnard is a man of character and a man of God, and he isn't afraid to let you know it.  The man made "shut up" and "suck" bad words, and if you accidentally let one slip (I never did), watching his face turn red was more than enough punishment.  In all interactions with students, adults, and strangers, he epitomized professionalism, and a handshake was standard protocol upon entering his classroom.  He was extremely hard-working - often the first car in the school parking lot in the morning and the last one to leave in the evening.  And summers off?  Forget it.  He was slaving away in a fireworks stand around the time of the Fourth of July to raise money for FFA activities or was planning the annual water balloon wars.

When we, his students, should have been going out of our way to thank him for all he had done for us, he was planning the annual Chicago Leadership Trip for incoming seniors.  All expenses were paid (because of his connections with local businesses), and it was a reward for us - the seniors who had contributed to the organization over the past several years.  During all FFA-related trips, he provided the perfect balance of structure and freedom and the perfect balance of work and play.

The man is amazing.

During the final weeks of my senior year of high school, when it was time for all the end-of-the-year banquets and awards ceremonies, I couldn't wait to be done with high school.  I wasn't at all emotional about leaving my school or leaving my town, but for some reason, I got very emotional at the FFA banquet.  When it was time for me to retire my jacket on the stage in front of my fellow FFA members and their families, I may or may not have shed a few tears.  Saying goodbye to Mr. Barnard was almost more difficult for me than saying goodbye to my classmates.

~~~ 

Tonight, I returned to Pershing Auditorium for the State FFA Convention.  It has been six years since I last put on the national blue jacket with the corn gold emblem, and it was pretty nostalgic to be back in that place.  While there, I had the pleasure of watching Mr. Barnard receive the Adviser of the Year award, and I had the even greater pleasure of talking with Mr. Barnard after he received the award.  I think he was surprised to see me, but I am certain that I wasn't the only former student of his who was in attendance.  It was so good to catch up and wish him well.

I only regret that the 30-second spiel that was read about him didn't do him justice.  They didn't even begin to explain what a significant impact he has had on so many people.

Mr. Barnard is retiring at the end of this year, and I am sad for the young students in my town (or anywhere, for that matter) who won't get to be Mr. Barnard's students.  I can say with great conviction that Mr. Barnard was an integral part in shaping the person who I am today, and is without a doubt one of the main reasons I became a teacher.  If I could be a fraction of the teacher and human being he is, I would have it made.

Congratulations, Mr. Barnard, on an an award that is long overdue and well-deserved.  Thank you for all you have done for me, for our school, and for our community.  I am so proud to have been one of the lucky ones who got to learn from you.  Superior High School won't be the same without you there.

This is My Life

As it turns out, buying a house is a lot of work!  So much work that I simply haven't made time to blog.  Also, my puppy walks all over my keyboard whenever I get it out, which makes me not want to even try to open my computer most nights.

Spring Break
Oh, how I needed Spring Break.  I had a mountain of papers to grade on top of getting paperwork finalized on the house.  Though I could've used another week off, I am grateful for the time I had.

On Monday of that week, Harper went to the groomer.  I was unaware that it isn't like a human haircut where you go in, get cut, and leave.  Instead, you drop off the dog, wait for several hours, and then go pick him/her up when they call you.  It was nice to have her out for awhile, because it gave me some time to clean the apartment.

On Tuesday, I went to the dentist.  I decided it was finally time to break down and find a dentist in Lincoln rather than going back to my hometown every time I needed a check-up.  I found Cherry Hill Dentistry through a teeth whitening Groupon, and I couldn't have had a better experience.  Dr. Tanya and staff were excellent!  That said, I just love going to the dentist in general.  I've never had a cavity or any need for awful drilling, so I always just walk away with clean teeth.  I was surprised to not only walk away with a dental care kit (standard toothbrush, floss, etc.), but one of these:

An electric toothbrush!  With a charger and everything!  Granted, it's not the fanciest of models, but it retails for about $40.  I have great insurance, which doesn't have me pay a dime for a dental check-up, so I view this as a very profitable visit.

On Wednesday, I realized that I needed to kick it into grading high-gear if I was going to get everything done before 3rd quarter grades came out.  So, I decided to take Harper to Camp Bow Wow, Lincoln's premier doggy day care.  It is quite the business plan, let me tell you.  The staff was awesome, and as I filled out paperwork in the lobby, I made small talk with other dog owners, who all assured me that my dog was in good hands.  Even so, I nearly cried as I drove away.  I can now empathize with parents who have to take their child to daycare for the first time... absolutely heartbreaking.  My favorite feature of Camp Bow Wow is the camper cams, which allows you to watch online as your dog plays.  I picked her up at around dinner time, when they presented me with a digital picture of Harper playing with another dog named Frank.  Also, they fill out a D-Tails sheet to let you know about your dog's day.  Harper loved it (I think), and she was exhausted when we got home, which allowed me to get even more work done.

I had a haircut on Thursday and an eye appointment on Friday.  I took Harper back to Camp Bow Wow both of these days to allow me to get work done at school.  It was money well-spent, as I was able to get most of my grading done.


March Madness
I don't follow college basketball at all.  I don't fill out a bracket.  I simply do not care.  But, when some friends asked me to go to a local establishment to watch the Final Four, I agreed.  I didn't watch one minute of the game, but I did have a good time catching up with friends.  Afterward, we went to Red Mango, Lincoln's newest frozen yogurt place.  I am generally underwhelmed with the taste of the yogurt... if given the choice between Red Mango and Coldstone, I'd pick Coldstone in a heartbeat.  If given the choice between Red Mango and nothing at all, I'd take nothing at all.  But it was fun to be with friends and take pictures of them:

Packing
Ugh.  I loathe packing.  During college, I got pretty good at it.  I moved ten times in four years (being an RA during the school year and a summer conferences assistant).  After college, the move to my apartment was just as simple as the other dorm-to-dorm moves because I bought all my furniture new, so the furniture stores delivered everything and set it up.  Since moving in, I have acquired much more stuff, which is making this move a bit more tricky.

I have the best friends in the world.  So many of them have offered to help me move, which, in my opinion, is the worst kind of work you can sign yourself up for.  I've had to start turning people away because I know there just won't be room for everybody who has offered to help.  Too many movers is a good problem to have, I suppose.  In addition to moving, my dear friend Ashley came over last night to help me pack my kitchen.  By that time, I had already finished packing the living room.

None of this packing was easy with this little monster running around:

Poor Harper doesn't know what to think about all of this.  She does, however, enjoy chewing on the boxes and attempting to get her paws on the newspapers I've been using to wrap the breakables.

I hate the feeling of emptiness that packing creates - nothing hanging on the walls, nothing on the shelves, the lack of color.  It reminds me of the last few days of school when the classroom gradually starts to empty itself of color and decorations.  I always get such a sinking feeling when I realize that another year of school has gone by.  And I have a similar feeling as I prepare to move out of this apartment.  I never intended this to be a long-term living arrangement, but in the short time I've lived here, I really have enjoyed it.  I had just gotten to know all of my neighbors and had just gotten to a place where I felt like I had everything that I needed and wanted.

I'm still not confident that buying a house was the right decision, but now that everything is packed up and ready to go, my feelings of stress have finally been replaced by feelings of excitement.  And ready or not, I'll be picking up my keys in fewer that 48 hours.  I am really looking forward to having a place to call my own.

The Monster Ball

Waaaaayyyyyyy back in October, I was asking my professor for a five-minute bathroom break beginning at 9:57 so that I could get online and order Lady Gaga tickets.

That seems like forever ago.

The concert itself was last Thursday, and, to be honest, it kind of snuck up on me.  In the midst of buying a house and wrapping up 3rd quarter stuff at school, I just wasn't thinking about it.  Also, I'm not actually a huge Lady Gaga fan.  If I were going to see Justin Bieber again, I would've made a paper chain countdown.  By the time this concert rolled around, my feeling was just... eh.

However...

I think that concert might have been the best show I will ever see in my life.

Lady Gaga is crazy.  Like, certifiably crazy.  But she is also a creative genius.

This evening, which conveniently happened to fall on St. Patrick's Day, was so much more than a concert.  It was a show, a play... an experience.

Kelli and I wore green to comply with the societal expectation of the holiday...

but we felt pretty underdressed.  Why didn't we think to roll beer cans into our hair?

Or to dig out our fairy costumes?

Or to dress in drag?

Next time, we'll know better, I guess.

The whole storyline of the show was Lady Gaga trying to get to the Monster Ball on time.  For those of you who aren't up on your Lady Gaga lingo, she refers to her fans as "little monsters."  Throughout the concert, she requested that we "put our paws up," and everyone obliged.

See below the many outfits of Lady Gaga:
Disclaimer:  The picture quality isn't great.  It could've been the concert lighting, but it's probably my camera.

Almost as often as her clothing changed, the stage set changed.  We started out with a smoking truck.

Then, it changed to a subway car scene:

Later, it turned into a park/forest

And then we "went to church"

Where Lady Gaga laid down to pray

Although it was a bit strange, her message was good.

Finally, the monster appeared, and we had to help her kill it.

Alas!  She made it to the Monster Ball on time!  And all was well with the world.

Conclusions:

• This woman can sing.  Like, really sing well.  She's got raw talent.
• People have no sense of shame in appearance, including Lady Gaga.
• Paying $100 to see this show was absolutely worth it.
• Next time, I need to take the following day off from work... midnight is just too late to be out.
• St. Patrick's Day is a worthless holiday.  What is it that we are actually celebrating, anyway?

Falling Into Place

Some people think that the lady that lives below me is a little bit crazy.

I think she might have saved me.

On Thursday of last week, the lady that lives below me was outside with her dog when I took Harper for a walk.  She suggested that Ashley (her dog) and Harper could play together this Spring.  I told her that it was a great idea, but that we had to move because Harper was too young to live there.  She was very disappointed and said that she was sad to have to see me go.

In the letter that my apartment manager sent me, it said I needed to be moved out by March 23rd.  Since the builder of my house foreclosed on it, the house is currently owned by Citibank.  I submitted paperwork with my realtor to request to move into my house three weeks before closing and pay them a per-day fee.  Then, I just had to wait.

Coincidentally, last week, I was reading my assignment for my grad class.  Our book is Hal Urban's Choices that Change Lives.  Two of the chapters that were assigned to us were "Prayer" and "Scripture."  In the chapter about prayer, Urban talked about the different answers God has to our prayers.  They are:  "yes," "no," "be patient," and "I have something better in store for you."

Even though my timeline for moving was getting shorter and shorter, I remained surprisingly calm.  I just kept keeping in mind what I had read about being patient.  Admittedly, I sometimes have a hard time trusting that things will work out how they are supposed to.  I should have been stressed having only twelve days to find a temporary place in which to move for a three-week period.  But, I was patient.

On Friday (March 11th), twelve days before I was supposed to move out of my apartment, I received an e-mail saying that Citibank has a strict policy against letting people move into their home before official closing.

Dang it.  This was the option that I was really hoping for.  I could use my Spring Break to move, which would prevent me having to take time off from work.  I wouldn't have to move my things into storage, I wouldn't have to inconvenience friends or family by moving in and imposing upon their lives.

But, the answer was a firm "no."

Patience is what I kept reminding myself of.

Within a few hours, I received an e-mail from my apartment asking me how much additional time I needed.  This was after several attempts to contact them and request an extension.  I replied with a request to stay until April 12th (only two days after my closing date), and within minutes I had a response saying that I could stay.

Hallelujah!

I couldn't believe it!  Why had it taken them this long to respond?  Why the change of heart all of a sudden?


Well, on my way out the door on Saturday morning, the lady who lives below me came out in her nightgown to tell me that she had gone to talk to the management for me.  She said that she told them that their puppy rule was ridiculous and that it was rude of them to kick a young teacher out of her apartment with nowhere to go.  I thanked her, and I told her that I thought she was the reason I was getting to stay.

I think I shall bake this woman an abundance of food before I leave.  And maybe buy her some flowers.  Any other ideas on how I can thank her?

So, the lessons learned (or, rather, reiterated) are:
-Be nice to your neighbors.  You never know when you might need them to yell at management for you.
-Be patient.  God is in control.

Amen.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart
   and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to him,
   and he will make your paths straight.

~ Proverbs 3:5-6 ~

Well, Hello!

It's been a while, hasn't it?

In my last post, I described the day I was told I had to move.  Things since then have been a bit crazy.  I began a thorough search of every home for sale and for rent in this city.  I went to open houses, I went to private showings with my realtor, I looked up information on the county assessor's website, I met with a mortgage broker, I made an offer (followed by several counter-offers), and I did a lot of praying.

In the midst of all of this, I had two nights of parent-teacher conferences, more meetings than I care to count, and a minor pet emergency which involved an a trip to vet and a week of prescription food and pills.

I thoroughly believe that this whole ordeal is a God thing, and He has really come through for me, just as He always does.  I met my realtor through a girl in my Sunday school class - it's her boyfriend.  He has been great to work with, and has been so flexible and understanding given my timeline.  I submitted my mortgage paperwork online, and God sent me to Noelle, a wonderful woman at WellsFargo.  She stayed after hours one Wednesday night to answer all of my questions and to go over in detail with me all that a mortgage would entail.

After all of the searching and paperwork and meetings, I am finally a homeowner!  Joe, my realtor, brought the paperwork to church this morning for me to sign.  I don't know of many people who sign their home ownership paperwork in church, but I can't think of a better place for it to have been done.

That was the easy part, I'm afraid.  Now, I have to order an inspection, wait for an appraisor to visit, complete all of the mortgage paperwork, and beg Angie, the manager of my apartment complex, to let me and Harper stay here an extra two weeks.  Apparently, banks don't think it's possible to close on a home in fourteen days.

Whatever.

Then, after all of that, I have to actually do the moving.  I hate moving, and I'm not very good at it.  And, since I won't be able to close before my Spring Break, I'll probably have to take some time off of work in order to get it done.  Unfortunately, April is a big testing month, so the timing on all of this is going to have to be just right.  And I trust that it will be.

So, that was the chaos update of my life.  Luckily, I have wonderful friends who have kept my spirits up in the midst of all of this.

Harper is doing better with potty training, and she loves visits from her Aunt Ashley and Uncle Jeremy.

Harper looks so small in these pictures!  She must be growing.  Which means I must start taking more pictures of her.

~~~

Saturday night was a bit of an adventure.  My friend Kelli called at 5:30 to see what I was doing at 6:00.  I thought maybe she wanted to go to dinner.

Nope.  Her nephew got into some trouble, so she inherited his tickets to the "Blizzard Tour," which was a concert featuring artists Cali Swag District, Sick Puppies, 3OH!3, and Nelly.  So, I agreed to go with her, despite the fact that my grad school homework wasn't done and I hadn't yet showered for the day.

There were tons of people there, and it wasn't really my type of crowd.  This kind of music isn't what I typically listen to, but it was free entertainment.  These people were loving it, though:

It was general admission seating, so we decided to sit fairly high up and out of the way.  Once we found some open seats, I realized that I was sitting next to a girl who I used to babysit.  She's fifteen years old now, which makes me feel old.  At one point, she and her friend decided to go to the bathroom and asked if I would save their seats.  I agreed, but in doing so, I had to shoo away a herd of former students who asked if they could have the seats.

Awkward.

Attention, former students:  Please don't judge me for having gone to this concert.  I assure you, I am not nearly cool enough to have done so.  Also, this music is far too inappropriate for you (and me) to be listening to.  Let's just keep listening to Bieber, who won't corrupt us.  Furthermore, I hope you didn't inhale too deeply where you were sitting.  And I hope you're too naive to know what that smell actually was.

Kelli was mostly interested in seeing Cali Swag District because she is a huge fan of "The Dougie."  In fact, she referred to this event as the Cali Swag District concert, even though they were the least well-known earliest performance of the night.

Can you see how excited she was?

Sick Puppies performed next, but I only knew one of their songs from the radio.  Also, they swore an awful lot, so I was ready for them to be done.

Then came 3OH!3, who had a few songs that I recognized.  They, too, swore a lot, which I didn't think was necessary.

Finally, at nearly 10:00 (way past my bedtime), Nelly came on with his St. Lounatics.

He was actually a pretty good performer.  I recognized most of his songs from the radio... he's been performing since I was in middle school.

By 11:30, Kelli and I were yawning pretty heavily, so we left.  Also, we wanted to beat the crowd out of downtown.  All-in-all, it was a pretty fun night!  Much better than grading papers, which I should have done.

Sigh.