Feeling Old

There's nothing like clicking the next age bracket in three different surveys to make me feel old.

One Day at a Time

Today was one of those days when I felt so stressed out, I cried.

Sometimes, when students had a rough day, I allow them to let it all out. But, then they must come up with at least two good things that happened to them on the same day.

One of the things I had to deal with at work, which has been ongoing since the beginning of the school year, is dealing with the noise in the hallways after the bell has rung. Then, gently I encourage the students to get into their classrooms. Sometimes, I feel being gentle does not do the trick and I become the ogre I dread turning into. Today, some girls were shrieking in the washroom and I had to call them out because other classes were in session, plus my office happened to have the honour of directly facing the washroom entrances. Ever see clowns pile out of a mini car? FOURTEEN girls came piling out of the girls' washroom.

"Why are there so many of you? There are only three stalls in there! And why were you screaming? Is your hair on fire?"
Their excuse? "We were just changing out of/into our PE clothes." And of course, there were a lot of "I wasn't the one who was screaming" going around.

I know they were just trying to have fun, but there's a time and a place for everything. As much as I think these girls, who have been spoken to several times previously about moving and talking around the school in lower decibels, need to take responsibility for their actions, I do think that part of my issue has to do with their teachers who stay inside their classrooms while their students run amok in the hallways. And as much as I would like to ask these teachers to speak to their students about respecting others, I don't think that would really work and I don't want to complain unless I had more viable solutions to offer.

Anyway, here are the two good things that happened:

1) There is one particular Grade 6 boy I got the privilege of knowing this year. He is almost always cheerful and his amusing curiosity never fails to make me laugh. His delight in something quite simple really made my day.

He came into my office, all flustered (as he usually is) because he wanted some help in completing an assignment. It turned out to be a crossword puzzle and he needed a five-letter answer for one of the remaining clues he had. Eventually, we found out the answer in an atlas: Omaha. When he found out, he just stared at me with amazement before breaking into a huge grin.

"O--MA--HA?!?"
I laughed at his expression. "Yes, the answer is Omaha."
"OMAHA!!!!" And he giggled. Then, he doubled over with laughter before writing down the answer. Then he bowed to me multiple times, all the while repeating his thanks over and over and laughing. He was so grateful to have found the answer, but I still don't quite know why he was laughing so hard over it. After he left, an overwhelming silence filled my office, the same kind of silence one would hear in the theatre after the last vibration of a violin ebbs. I couldn't help, but smile myself. How awesome a child's laughter is.

2) I'm still alive...
... to hear a child laugh
... to savour each delicious morsel of food that my husband prepared for me
... to seize another day

Greyhound Update

I got a full refund!

But, to cheer me up a bit more, my friend found an audio clip that combined my two favourite people: the Irish and children. Check out Becky's Demolition Company.

Are You Afraid of the Dark?

I'm afraid of the dark. Not as afraid as I am of spiders and I am afraid of the dark only occasionally. But, I don't like being in the dark very much, which doesn't bode well for me as a youth group counselor when a lot of my teens like to play games, like Sardines, in the dark.

Last night, I couldn't sleep and sometime after 1 am, I got thirsty and went downstairs for a drink. Not wanting to wake my husband, I didn't turn on any light until I got to the dining room. It is always darker after once you had light and then did not, so when I turned off the light, I suddenly felt so overwhelmed by the darkness and my thoughts of all things that are scary that I quickly ran upstairs thinking that the faster I get to bed, the safer I would feel.

Not a smart move. Not smart at all.

My quick-pattering feet up the stairs and into the bedroom startled my husband wide awake and he thought we were under attack by an intruder. He screamed and I screamed and we both screamed some more, but not for ice cream. Finally, not wanting to be clobbered over the head by the wooden bat by my husband's side of the bed, I cried out, "It's me! It's me! It's only me!"

I turned on the lamp on my nightstand and I quickly hugged my husband close to me and over and over again I apologized for frightening him. When our fast-beating hearts slowly drummed to a steady, calmer pace, we laid back down to sleep. But, I stayed awake a while more because I kept hearing his frightened shouts in my head. My logical and sensible husband screaming. I never want to hear that sound again. And I felt all the more worse knowing that I had caused it because of my childish fear of the dark.

Like I said, I'm not always afraid of the dark, but recently I have been because of this. My fear of the dark will soon pass and I hope it will before my husband leaves for a week-long training sometime this month. Then, I will have to rely on God's power to protect me from the darkness.

2 Corinthians 4:5-7 (New International Version)

For we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.