Students

 

I write a great deal of blogs in my head.  I don’t end up writing some because I read a blog on Facebook of exactly what I wanted to say and then I literally hit myself on the head and hate myself for not writing that. I know I need to blog more, but not even blog—just write. I'm writing this blog because I have to because my heart has been heavy lately for my students.  I yearn to know their story; however, when I find out I just ache for them.

 

I learn about my students mostly through their writing. They love to express themselves even though they put on a façade of hatred towards schoolwork. I try to have them write for pleasure as much as I do for academic purposes, but with time restraints it doesn’t always happen. I have them write “no-send letters.” This is their favorite because they write to a person with no intention of giving them that letter. Even with all the technology, they crave this activity and ask to do it all the time. They have a lot to say and writing helps them release that.

 

Recently, my students turned in a narrative essay. Narrative writing, in case you were wondering J, is when the writer tells a story where the reader learns a lesson or gains insight about the writer. I get to be the reader of these essays and I so enjoy it.  I read every.single.one. All 150. It takes me about a week, which seems like a lot, but when I am finished reading them I feel a mix of emotions. I feel happy, proud, sad, angry, hopeless, curious, empowered, weak and strong all at the same time. I feel happy because some of their stories are hilarious. I feel proud because of all the teachers that worked together to get them to this point of writing: their elementary teachers for teaching them letters, how to read, how to form sentences; for their middle school teachers for teaching them to write essays; and I feel proud of myself because they finished something, turned it in, and wanted me to read it. I feel sad, angry, and hopeless because some of their stories are h e a v y. These students have been through too much at their age and are maybe still living in a bad situation. I get angry at the thought that some children weren’t raised how I was and they just need love. I feel hopeless because I can do nothing about that situation. I feel curious because sometimes I want to know more. I feel empowered because I can be the hope this child needs. I feel weak because I’m tired of reading and grading, and I feel strong because I can face another day without being hungry, abused, tired, or lonely like some of my students.

Yesterday, I asked one student about his essay while it was just him and I in the room. I asked him if he was really bullied in elementary school because this kid is so vibrant, so extraverted, popular, funny, and kind.  He got serious and explained that he had. I asked him who bullied him and he responded with names that I am sure he will never forget. He told me story after story about what he had to go through each day he walked home.  One time, this group of older kids had a can of hair spray and a lighter and they burned some of his hair off. He was in second grade. I started crying because I have a child that old! He had pictures he showed me on his phone of when he was bald because of this incident. He told me that once he stood up to them, only to be beat up.  This whole time I can’t believe these things happened to him because of how he acts around everyone.  In his essay he explains that the principal actually took care of the situation because the parents had called. An educator-a silent hero- took action.  I am proud of the man this student is becoming and know he will go far in life and I was so glad he shared his story with me. (note: I asked him if I could write about him in my blog J)

 

This is just one reason my heart is heavy. I try to remember every day that my students carry weight with them.  You should all remember this, not just if you are a teacher, but with everyone you come into contact with. Everyone has a story and is dealing with something that is buried deep within their soul.  If you take the time to ask, you will know and understand that person better.  I do not ever regret asking a student about their story. Sometimes I don’t even have to ask—they will just confide in me.  The student/teacher relationship is often criticized in media, but you might not know about all of the positive aspects of this relationship.  One of my favorite things is when I hand back something like an essay, where they poured their heart into it and wanted me to know this tiny piece of their story, and our eyes meet. I smile—they smile—and we just have this understanding about what went down. I get them and they feel that and it is this unexplainable feeling of understanding that I wish I could put into words.

You don't even know!

You have no idea. Unless you are a teacher-you just don’t know. Since people attended school and learned from a teacher, they think that they know what teachers do. I’m here to tell you this: being a teacher is nothing like what you think it is.

There are a lot of great, rewarding, challenging paid jobs out there. I have respect for all jobs because that’s just what they are: jobs.  Somebody has to suck it up and go to work to that specific job every day. Some do jobs that they aren’t paid to do but still work their butt off every day.  I have an immense respect for my brother and sister. We have this understanding that we couldn’t do each other’s job.  My brother is a trooper in the Oklahoma Highway Patrol.  Personally, I don’t care about others enough to take a bullet for them or protect and serve them when they are asleep. Just being honest, but if you know me, you know compassion isn’t my strong suit.  Kyle isn’t just a guy with a gun and power; he is a hero.  He makes that teenager pour out the alcohol or dump out the tobacco. Not only that but then he escorts them home and makes them tell parents. He cares for people he doesn’t even know or won’t see again.  He puts his life in danger to chase after the guy on drugs.  He doesn’t just sit and write speeding tickets because he has better things to do with his time.  So honorable.  My sister is an ER Nurse at Southwest Integris Medical Center. She works in the busiest ER in OKC. Wow, right?!  Crazy! She does tell me lots of stories but I know there are things she doesn’t tell me because I can’t stomach them.  She is constantly busy for 12 hours straight-sometimes even longer. She doesn’t sit down, doesn’t get to eat sometimes, and doesn’t quit thinking. She holds sick babies, comforts families that have lost someone, and sees horrible things that may make her lose faith in humanity for a moment; however, she is exceptional at her job. She saves lives! She does all these things in a day’s work and still finds time to be a daughter, sister, friend, and a church member.  I truly admire her heroism as well.

While I love my brother and sister and know that all of our jobs are physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausting, I have no greater respect than for that of a teacher. 

Just to give you an idea-here are some things about teachers you may not know or have considered:

When a teacher stands up in front of a class at 8 AM and begins to teach, students do not know what all has happened that morning preceding that moment.  She had to wake up on time, get herself ready, her kids ready, and get everyone to their designated place whether that is daycare, school, or the bus stop. Then she fights traffic (maybe gets coffee on a good day) and finds a parking place (which is not as easy as it sounds).  It doesn’t really matter what her morning was like, she has to hide the chaos and put on a show.  Students need her. They need her to inspire them, to motivate them, to teach them that specific subject, to teach the hidden curriculum, to notice them as people, to understand them, to give them a safe place and to love them.  I usually take a deep breath in the moment of silence every morning and silently pray “Jesus” because I don’t have to say words-He knows.

College doesn’t prepare you as a teacher for most aspects of your job. Since I was an English Education major, I took English classes and I took Education classes. In my English classes we read novels, wrote papers, discussed, analyzed, philosophized; in my Education classes we learned classroom management techniques, different theories of Education, different teaching approaches, laws, and child psychology.  However, there was never one correct answer.  No professor ever said, “this is how you teach a novel…this is how you motivate the unmotivated…this is how you hold back tears when you learned how a kid was locked in a closet most of his childhood…this is how you deal with stress…this is how you manage time to grade 150 essays in a week…”  I haven’t taught very long, but I have taught long enough to know that there is no college, no class, no professor that can truly prepare you for this profession.  Even while I am writing this I am overwhelmed by the thought of portraying parts of my job to you.  We do not just work from 8-3. We get here early, prepare for the day, talk all day, think all day, walk around all day, and are ruled by bells, schedules, emails, rules, state standards, EOI’s, assemblies, data, grade books, lesson plans, professional development….on and on and on.  Do not be mistaken: I am not complaining. I chose this job and knew I wanted to be a teacher since I was 6. I am just making you aware in case you didn’t know. In case you didn’t know, we stay late after school. We cry in bed at night sometimes. We Pinterest all through the summer, finding new ideas, games, and lessons to entertain students. We don’t get paid like we should. We don’t really “get summer’s off” because of boot camp, meetings, or changes in instruction because of the state standards. In case you didn’t know, students love us. They act like they don’t, but they are overjoyed when they see us at Walmart, McDonalds, or the movies.  They desire to follow us on twitter, to creep our Instagram, to look through our Facebook pictures because we are interesting to them (despite how the media portrays teachers). 

In case you didn’t know, I am a parent to 150 different kids every year.  I do not take my job lightly.  I have to enforce respect, hard work, determination, critical thinking, problem solving, courteousness, citizenship, and social mores every day.  In reference to my statement earlier about not taking a bullet for someone I don’t know: this is still true. However, I would not think twice about taking a bullet for any one of my students. It is my nature-the mama bear in me-to put them first. This is also something they don’t teach in college.

It baffles me that at every bell, every day, teachers across the school, the district, the state, and the country are all doing what I am doing. We are simply trying to change the world.  Teachers all have different reasons why they teach but deep down we all just want to change the world (and make sure our students use proper grammar while doing so)…

I know I have only nearly touched on a few things about teachers but I need to write sometimes to process and get it out there…Even though we need to be humble, some teacher needs to hear more positive in their life, to be encouraged, honored, loved, and recognized for what they choose to do everyday-not because they have to-but because they want to.

I work with an amazing group of teachers and administration at my school and I feel truly blessed to know that this is a calling-not for the weak-but for the bold, the brave, the authentic, the zealous, the heroic.

Easy to Love

I am still learning about myself. Honestly, a lot about myself. One would think that at 24 almost 25 that you would have your shit together. But I don’t and that’s not easy for me to admit. And I’m learning about myself at the mercy of my marriage. My understanding husband has been revealing qualities about me that I’m not proud of: personal qualities, wife qualities, mommy qualities that need improvement. 

The other night when Blake and I were having an argument he flat out asked me, “do you want me to love you?” He said it very calmly and I replied, “no.” I was upset with our marriage because it wasn’t playing out like I thought it should. I felt respect was compromised and that the whole concept of give and take was more about taking than giving. Blake had made the comment that he thought I thought I was always right. Well, I am. I mean, he is always the one that is messing things up and pissing me off. (*keep up with my sarcasm*) The truth is, however, that I realize that I am the problem the majority of the time. I had expressed to him that I don’t think love is enough. I love him and he loves me, but sometimes I feel that the problems we have are unable to be fixed.

We are currently participating in this marriage bible study and only have one week left. I thought this bible study would bring us closer together but I have been mistaken. This is one of those points in life that God slaps you and basically says work on this, fix this, honor me while doing so, practice what you preach kind of times.

After I replied “no” to Blake’s question he was quiet for a little bit and then asked me, “do you mean that?” And then he asked me again, “Jandi, do you want me to love you?” I thought about it and said, “yes.”  I realized that I have these high expectations of how he should love me. Expectations like he should be romantic every day, serve me every day, just do.what.I.say., surprise me with doing my chores, sit inside with me, give up his plans, make love after a long day….all these things and I don’t make it easy for him to love me. I make it difficult by expecting him to read my mind and by not communicating with him. I expect him to do these things for me but don’t return the favor. I do things for him and then hold those things against him and use them to my benefit instead of just having pure intentions and serving him.

Why I am writing this? Do I care that you know about my marriage and where it falls short? I want you to think about if you are easy to love for your spouse or if you make it difficult because you are unhappy.  If you aren’t married, are your intentions pure with serving God? Maybe you have no idea what I’m talking about, but if you do then I challenge you to do a gut check. 

I’m thankful for my husband. So thankful. That night we had the argument, it was late into the night-actually early morning. I was finished talking and wanted to go to bed and Blake got up and went into the living room and was there for awhile. I thought he was going to the couch. But no. I woke up to a long letter the next day that explained LOVE IS ENOUGH and that he will never leave and will try harder and will be the best husband and daddy that God wants him to be.  (I asked if he googled the letter because it was so good lol) Don’t limit God in any aspect of your life, your marriage especially. 

 

  

but...how?

The last blog I wrote about "Going All the Way" brought up some questions that I feel like I need to address.  Beau and Heather are still doing a great job in the series at church concerning sex and marriage. However, both of them waited to have sex before they were married. They can only point out certain consequences of adultery instead of experiencing them. Our experiences shape our beliefs and you learn something better when you experience it. Now, I hope if you are saving yourself for marriage that you don't experience sex outside of marriage. Marriage sex is better. Just take my word for it and don't be one of those that thinks if she did it so can I. I've been there and those thoughts are only a justification.  Now, sex inside marriage is different from sex outside of marriage in my opinion. BUT....HOW is it different? There is security-security knowing that he isn’t comparing you, security knowing he isn’t going to leave you, security knowing that he is the only one for you and who God wanted you to be with. There is freedom in knowing that you aren’t sinning and that you are obeying God with your life and your marriage. When you have had sex before marriage, you have created something that is “artificial”-or an imitation of what it is supposed to be and has human error involved. When you are married, it is not an imitation it is the real thing, pure, honest…  (1 Thessalonians 4:3-7) It is God’s will that you should be sanctified: that you should avoid sexual immorality;  that each of you should learn to control your own body in a way that is holy and honorable, not in passionate lust like the pagans, who do not know God; and that in this matter no one should wrong or take advantage of a brother or sister. The Lord will punish all those who commit such sins, as we told you and warned you before. For God did not call us to be impure, but to live a holy life. Therefore, anyone who rejects this instruction does not reject a human being but God, the very God who gives you his Holy Spirit.

 

You kind of have to re-shape your sex life when you get married. You don’t experience the newlywed sex because you have already experienced each other. Don’t feel weird because you may be the more sexual person in the relationship. Society and the media always make it seem like the male is the more sexual person, but in my own experience and in talking with others it is often the female that is more sexual. It takes awhile to figure out what works for both of you. It does need to be a priority in the marriage, but your marriage should not be centered around it. Also, you might figure out your husband and your love language: (The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman).

 

Now, if you are reading this and you are not a Christian then your beliefs or opinions might not be the same as mine. My marriage is Christ-centered and biblically based. Read 1 Corinthains 7. Specifically, 1-5: Now concerning the matters about which you wrote: “'It is good for a man not to have sexual relations with a woman.’ But because of the temptation to sexual immorality, each man should have his own wife and each woman her own husband. The husband should give to his wife her conjugal rights, and likewise the wife to her husband. For the wife does not have authority over her own body, but the husband does. Likewise the husband does not have authority over his own body, but the wife does. Do not deprive one another, except perhaps by agreement for a limited time, that you may devote yourselves to prayer; but then come together again, so that Satan may not tempt you because of your lack of self-control.” It is important that both the husband and wife understand this. Make sure you are doing your part before you criticize him for not doing his (speaking from experience J) You are both each other’s servant and he should be receptive to your needs and wants concerning sex.

Women: If you are not satisfied with your sex life then that's ok. Do something about it. Do not be so hard on yourself. It is not your appearance or anything like that. Don't put sex on the back-burner because of kids, stress, work, etc.  Sex is actually supposed to be about you-the woman (read Song of Solomon).

 

If you are a Christian and want to make things right, make sure that you and your husband have asked forgiveness for the sin of adultery or the sin of sex outside of marriage. Make sure that other areas of your marriage are right instead of focusing on sex. Make sure you are submitting to him and that he treasures you like he treasures the church. There are books, couples devotionals, and always the Bible to help you figure things out. Sex is one of the biggest fights in marriage I think-that and respect. Your sex life will change constantly when you are married and you have to learn to adapt.

 

 Please feel free to ask me or have me clarify anything. I’ve been married almost 7 years so I don’t have all the answers but I have been where you are at. If you read this and still have questions, feel free to ask!

 

Going All the Way

GOING ALL THE WAY

Today at church we started our series entitled “Going All the Way.” Since it is the month of February, it is a series based on dating, marriage, and sex.  My friends, Beau and Heather, taught the sermon today and a few things stuck out to me pertaining to my own relationships. I admire their bravery and candidness when I know it is not easy. I especially admire my best friend because she does not feel comfortable at all speaking in front of people, and does really not feel comfortable talking about sex. I could’ve punched Matt when he played “Let’s get it on” when she walked up there and I felt so bad for her. She did great though!

So some aspects of this lesson stuck out to me: if you don’t wait for sex you are devaluaing your spouse and your partner’s spouse/ the world is saying “yes yes yes yes yes” to sex and the church usually says nothing, and if the church says anything then it is “no no no no no.”

When I was in the youth group, we had this thing called “Sextember.” We had shirts made and everything. It was a full month devoted to learning about sex and purity. The first week consisted of a nurse coming from the health department and showing us this horrible, awful, disgusting, turn-your-head and barf kind of slide show. The intentions, I believe, were to scare us from having sex so we wouldn’t get a STD. It was a sobering reality for some, while for others it was just gross and it didn’t apply to them since most hadn’t been to second base.  The following weeks were great-our youth pastor would talk about purity and sex and how sex was horrible outside of marriage. He never talked about how great sex was in marriage though. He had told us that he had sex outside of marriage and that his wife hadn’t, but he didn’t tell us how that directly afffected his marriage. He made broad statements like it was “emotionally damaging” or something like that. My thoughts going through my head were, (as shallow as they were) entailed things such as he made it just fine and he wasn’t a virgin when he got married….that’s not fair that he wasn’t and she was so I wouldn’t want to be the one who hadn’t in a relationship….he is holy and righteous and he messed up so if I do it’s not that bad… 

I struggled with purity all through  my teenage years. I started struggling with it in 7^th grade. 7^th grade. Woah. That is so young. I look at my cousins, who are mostly all older than 7^th grade and I think-they better not do that. I hope they don’t do that. They are so much smarter than me. I didn’t need attention or affection from boys; I didn’t have daddy issues…it was just something I struggled with. I knew it was wrong and I hid that sin in a tiny closet and never showed anyone.  I remember certain speakers that would coome and talk to us during the month of sextember. This one lady inparticular stands out to me. We were in the gym and our parents were able to attend. She talked about respect and was very transparent that we did not respect ourselves or our future spouse if we “left our fingerprints” on others. She talked about what “going too far” meant and showed us what body parts would light up for the opposite sex when we would do certain things. I did feel shame and conviction, sitting next to my boyfriend.  However, he didn’t feel the same that I did so nothing ever changed that night. Once at Falls Creek, I asked a previous boyfriend for forgiveness. We both were each other’s “firsts”-not that we had intercourse- but that we were impure in so many other ways with each other. It was a great talk and I’m so glad we had it and it was such a release and such a freedom I felt for asking him and God for forgiveness. Even though he never had the chance to get married, since he died recently, we robbed each other of the purity of marriage and the marriage bed. While I learned a lot about what not to do in church, Beau’s comment today about the church saying nothing or “no no no” stood out to me. I should’ve heard how great sex was inside of marriage. I wish it wasn’t such a taboo subject. I wish that I would’ve heard specifics on how my youth pastor’s marriage had “emotional baggage.” I wish people that made that poor decision not to wait would’ve told me that sex is a good thing, a gift from God, and there are many reasons why it is only intended for marriage. 

Since Blake and I chose to have sex before marriage it has affected us greatly. We did feel shame, conviction, embarassment, and some anger after we got married. We had to completely reshape our idea of sex. We couldn’t sneak around anymore. We couldn’t do it as often as we wanted because of the baby we had. We weren’t the same teenagers trying to do it just to brag on the amount of times we had done it. It wasn’t “artificial” anymore.  It was now ok and now biblical and it was weird. Weird maybe isn’t a good word but it’s all I got. It took us awhile to figure each other out.  Our neighbors gave us a DVD on marriage and sex and it did help us greatly.  Things that I had done-people from my past-haunted me. Most of the men that I had physical, intimate relationships with weren’t yet married and I would think to myself I ruined this for them like they ruined it for me…I ruined it for myself… Blake and I have only been with each other-but I had other “fingerprints” on me and had left fingerprints on others. I can only hope if they read this that they can forgive me and that their spouse can forgive me.  After Blake forgave me and I forgave myself could we really move on and have great marriage sex. I hear funny stories from my Christian friends that were virgins when they were  married and their stories differ from mine greatly; however, one characteristic is the same: you were not allowed to do it and then you were and one little piece of paper and a ceremony made it ok. I had a friend who was so nervous she threw up. I have another friend who wore her comfy clothes and needed her husband to explain to her why it was now ok. Eventually, obviosly, we all came around. Sex is a major part of a marriage and while it is not the center, it needs to be a priority. 

I’m not saying that the church failed me before. It wasn’t all the church’s responsibility-my parents did talk openly about sex and God’s intention for it. I want my children to desire sex and hold it to such a high standard that they don’t settle before they are married.  The church-or metaphorically speaking the church-us- I want to be the church for the world. The church for the teenagers I’m around every day. The church for adults. The church for my kids’ friends that don’t get to see it.

I’m not ashamed of my testimony. I’m not ashamed anymore of the things I’ve done and only by the blood of Jesus am I redeemed today. If you have any questions or need someone to talk with  you or pray with you, please please please talk to me. If you live in the Woodward area and are curious about what goes down at 1000 Hills Ranch Church then I urge you to come.

PART II

Part II

The last blog about my pregnancy was very surface level.  I addressed some of the issues that come along with being a pregnant teenager and mentioned some of the people that helped me during that time when I was in high school.  Let me make a brief disclaimer: this is my blog. It is my perspective. Perspectives are funny in the fact that everyone has a different one.  If you don’t like my perspective or don’t agree with it, then write your own blog.  You do have the freedom to comment, just realize that I do not care if you make it out for people to have a negative perception of me or of my family. I know the truth and God knows the truth, and that is all that matters to me.  This is entitled “Part II” because I feel that there is more to the story. Isn’t it crazy how people just miss the mark sometimes? I mean, not that everything has to be about me, but sometimes it just isn’t about you.  Now, I do want someone to take something away from my blog when I write them and somehow relate to me.  I despise those people that share things on social media just to disagree with them. Geeze, people.

Thank you to everyone who commented, texted, personal messaged me, or talked to me about my last entry. I love you people.

Now, part 2:

Here are some of the other parts of my pregnancy; some are dark places and some are radiant, but they all are a part of my story:

I once had a teacher who wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom (she didn’t know I was pregnant) and I had morning sickness BAD. She wouldn’t let me go so I just threw up in the trash can, told her I was pregnant, and sat back down. Nobody said anything the rest of the period. 

When I say I had morning sickness badly, I mean I was sick every day until almost 5 months pregnant. Every day until noon. I would wake up early just to throw up some before I had to go to school. Then, when I got to school, I would often sit in my car and be late for band because I was throwing up in the parking lot.  Nobody said anything whenever I would come in late for band, and I don’t even think I was counted tardy or I would’ve failed on absences.  I would have to bring something to eat in class, like grapes, crackers, a nutrigrain bar, just to ease the sickness, only to throw it up later.  This wasn’t easy in high school since you aren’t supposed to have food and everybody is in everybody’s business. People soon found out why I had food or why I was just leaving to go to the bathroom or why I looked like hell. Yeah, I didn’t look pretty. I barely weighed 100 pounds and lost 13 pounds the first trimester. This is the shit nobody tells you about when they talk about how horrible pregnancy is-it looks fun and all until you don’t think about a human growing inside of you, you just feel sick. 

My sister would hold my hair back when I threw up or carry me to my bed if I passed out. She was there for me.

I had a Spanish teacher walk up to me in front of the class and say, “So, I hear you are pregnant.”

Yeah, so, what? 

People just don’t know what to say to you.  It’s kind of humorous, really. The male teachers were the worst at knowing what to say but the best at showing you mercy. They would fearfully ask if I was pregnant, (because I could just be fat) and then ask when I was due and what my plan was. When they found out I was to go homebound for the remaining of the semester, they took it a little easy on me concerning my schoolwork and modified my assignments. One government teacher didn’t realize I was out for the rest of the semester and thought it was the rest of the year, so I did a million worksheets that I didn’t need to do and ended up doing them over when I returned. It was fun.

My uncle D basically set Blake and I up. We met at the Woodward rodeo for all of you who didn’t know that. It is romantic, regardless of how it sounds. When Blake and I got pregnant he sat us down and chewed our butts. I mean, letting him down was the worst. He is like my own dad and I had to hear that I disappoint him. I remember crying and Blake just putting his head down at times. He and Polly did assure us that we could do it-something we needed to hear from them. I applaud his bravery and candidness with us. 

My grandma wanted me to live with her so I wouldn't be stressed at home. She begged me at times. However, I'm glad I stayed living at home because my mom taught me so much about being a mother and how to take care of a home and my dad was there for a male figure in Kaden's life to play with him.

Blake’s reputation. It’s a small town.  He’s the stud of the football team (not my perception, he really was J) and he was the guy that every mom wanted their daughter to marry. He is a good man and didn’t go to college to play football because he had priorities. He was (is) a good dad and a good husband and decided that providing for a family meant more than a college career. I know he would’ve succeeded, but he will always wonder.  I resent myself sometimes, thinking about the opportunities we missed out on and had to sacrifice for.

Sacrifice. That 9 letter word creeps into my life as a mother quite often. I sacrificed a lot. I sacrificed doing color guard, going on my senior trip to Europe with my friends, touring 8 different countries; I sacrificed my time working so I could afford diapers instead of going out with my friends; I sacrificed my senior year because my mind was elsewhere with this baby. I sacrificed probably more after high school, but know this: I wouldn’t trade it. I’m glad I learned to sacrifice-something that young people don’t learn much about early enough.

I had many hurtful things said to me. Since Blake didn’t live in OKC or go to my school, my peers labeled me a “slut” because no man was around to be the baby daddy.  What they didn’t know is that I had only slept with one man and have only slept with one man. I didn’t get knocked up at a party or anything and so the rumors that went around school were awful.  This is when I learned to not judge people. It is something easier said than done, but when you are at a very low point in your life, your perspective changes. I learned I am no better than anybody. I never knew the story and so I vowed to never start rumors about people because I never wanted them to feel how I felt. I also learned that a sin is a sin. No sin is worse (other than denying God) than another sin. God looks at sin the same. I just wore my sin and it showed through my shirt. Everyone struggles with something and the consequences are different-but the sin is the same.

Like I said in my previous blog, haters gonna hate.  I only mentioned two incidents in which I felt betrayed. There are more. I remember the hurtful, hurtful things that were said to me; but I will not write them on here.  I wrote that I forgave those people and what they did-and I did. I’m still trying to work on forgetting them.

The support group I got involved with was just that: support. We met on Tuesdays during 2^nd hour and I went when I was pregnant and I went after I had Kaden. The lady that led the group was helpful in getting me on my own and preparing me for having a baby-she even taught me baby massage. She went with me to DHS to get some help in paying for the baby and I learned a lot from the mothers that were in the group. I remember one time sitting around the table and talking, and one of the mothers started leaking. Another girl told her she was leaking, and she said she had another shirt in her car and covered it up with her books and left. I remember thinking to myself, “that will be me…that will be my life…” and I was horrified.

I did breastfeed and go to school.  It wasn’t easy but I’m glad I did it.  I would wake up and feed Kaden, get ready for school, and then take him to daycare. I did concurrent enrollment so I would go to high school half a day and college half a day. In between schools, I would pump on my lunch break. I fed him for 5 months, until he decided to wean.  Just so you know, I never leaked at school and didn’t have to worry about that J I did encourage other girls in the support group to breastfeed and was there for them. (transparent, I know…but it’s my blog!)

The secretary I mentioned in my first blog would send me notes or bible verses during class. She would also get me out of class to come have some crackers or fruit and juice. She taught me that the little things make students feel special and I try to remember that when I am dealing with students today. 

My story doesn’t stop at high school, since being a young mom is a fight. It’s a fight because you are still a child yourself in a certain aspect and society looks down on you. I was once buying jeans at a store in Woodward and the lady, who was older, told me I was too young to have a baby because I was a baby myself. I told her she was too old to be working and should be retired by now… I haven’t always been graceful with my comebacks, but it was hard to have my speech “seasoned with salt” and hold my tongue.  I’m young-I know I look young. I had a baby young and started a family young and got married young. I don’t act young though. So I get frustrated when people point out the obvious. Real frustrated.

Like I said, I did go to college and it was hard being married and having children while trying to obtain a degree. It was hard keeping up a house and cooking dinner and doing laundry.  I would do my homework while my kids were sleeping or I would have to find a sitter so I could write a paper. I took online classes one semester when I had Blaze so I could breastfeed. I would schedule my classes around my kids and make it work. I would sometimes show up at class smelling like puke because I was at home with a sick kid all day or I would look terrible because I never had time to get ready. But I made it. Because of kids and going to college right after we got married, Blake and I have never had a “normal” marriage. We had Kaden when we got married and so we have never really been newlyweds. I remember going to see You, Me, and Dupree in the theatre with Blake. Afterwards, I was crying and crying ( I was pregnant) and he had to pull over in a Taco Bell parking lot because I was so upset and he had to calm me down. We just held each other and cried. After watching the movie that was about newlyweds it occurred to us that we would never have this. This was something I mourned and let myself mourn for a short while and then got over it. it still bothers me from time to time and I wish young people knew this is one of those sacrifices that nobody tells you about. Blake and I have adjusted and our marriage is stronger because of it. We accepted a different normal and we are still very much in love. It is still weird to me that I am now out of college and teaching and home in the evenings without homework. I love it.

One woman made a lot possible for me with her support, and I couldn’t have done it without her. My mother-in-law, or my mother #2, Trish, has always been available to watch my boys, make dinner when I’m busy, pick up kids, drive kids, rub my back when I’m stressed, sleep with me when I’m scared, come down in the middle of the night to help me with kids, and so much more. She still helps me out a lot whenever I need her to. We have always been close-even when Blake and I were dating. I love our relationship and I’m so glad I have her.

I’m thankful for the college mommies I met too because they were my support and I didn’t feel alone. It was nice to know that someone was in the same boat I was and was just trying to get through. I know God placed them in my life for a reason.

I know this has been a super long blog-I’m currently had 2,212 words. Whew! I could still write but I’m going to save some thoughts for later. I write to inform and to inspire and I hope you got something out of this. I don’t mind being honest, but it’s sometimes hard for me to be so transparent. I enjoy writing and it’s therapeutic for me.

Until next time…