Another One Down

Another semester is over. I can't believe I am already half-way done with my sixth year of teaching! Time passes by so quickly.

I really do like my job, and while I would love to be able to stay home and be a full time mommy, I am happy with what I do for now, and thankful that I am able to be part time. I love working with 16 and 17 year olds. I love watching them learn. I enjoy having conversations with them, seeing the proverbial light-bulb light up. I get so excited as I see them working hard, figuring things out, and maturing socially in and out of class.

Are there frustrations? Sure there are, just like with any job. Are there times when I could go on about it for hours? Yep. But all in all, I like teaching. I like knowing that I am a capable professional with a college degree who has chosen, yes chosen, to dedicate my career to the thousands of students that will pass through my door. And am I perfect? Far from it. Do I make mistakes? You bet I do. Not a day goes by that I don't wish I could have done something differently, or changed an interaction with a student, or approached a topic in a more exciting way. But I do the best I can, and despite the mistakes that I know I make, I earnestly hope that I am inspiring, encouraging, and intriguing the minds of my students much more often.

I love teaching. I don't know how long I will do it. I don't know if I will teach until retirement, or move on to something else later. I don't know what the future holds; but for now I know that what I am doing fits. I know that I too am inspired by my students, by my hard working colleagues, and by my passion for literature, grammar(yes, passion for grammar) and learning. I hope, I truly hope, that some day, more people will realize that there are more good teachers than bad, that more of us work hard than don't, and that teaching is an honorable position, not a last resort.

Girlfriends

I just spent my evening with the incoming girls of my society (sorority for all of you non-Whittier folk). It just doesn't get old. Every time I do it, I am reminded of the importance of girlfriends in my life.

Girlfriends make our lives richer. They share memories of laughter and tears, of good times and bad, of births and deaths, of ups and downs. They know our deepest secrets, and because of that, they are able to relate to us in a way no one else can.

I am so thankful for my girlfriends. I am so thankful for each one of you... for all the wonderful things about you that make me laugh, and make me crazy. I am so thankful that I can count on you to be a listening ear, and that I can be that for you too. Thank you for everything you are, because it means a lot.

"3rd" babyfoods

I love cooking. I love my daughter. So I guess it goes to figure, I should love cooking for my daughter. But we all know how it goes, the day flies by, and convenience is, well, convenient. So today, since she was sick, and since church is good at messing up naps, I chose to stay home so she could sleep. I cleaned up the kitchen and then made a great batch of baby food for her that even I would eat (seriously, it was GOOD!) It is easier now too, because she can handle so much more texture and has moved on, in some cases, to those almost rancid "3rd foods" in the jar. I thought I'd share what I did, especially because it turned out so well...

one half chicken breast cut into medium chunks
2 leftover canned artichoke hearts
1/3 ish cup of frozen chopped spinach
1/2 roasted red bell pepper
a bit of salt
a sprinkle of garlic powder
a splash of apple juice for sweetness

I seared the chicken, threw in the veggies, added about a cup of water and simmered it for about 10 minutes. I threw it in the food processor, pulsed it a few times... and viola, awesome, nutritious and delicious baby food. This time I mixed in some rice cereal... but either way! Yum!

Growing Growing Growing... Gone!

Miss Penelope is growing so fast! Every day there is a new trick, a new something she has learned to do. She never ceases to blow me away. She has no discovered that cabinets open and close. She is practicing consonants in whispers, and when she thinks she has them down, she adds them to her babble... which of course means nothing, but is fun nonetheless. "My poo," "mamamamamamama," "pop," "mob," may not be real words, but they are sure fun to hear anyway. The little scamp is also trying to balance without holding on to anything! I mean geez louise, doesn't she realize that she is only eight and a half months old? Nope! I guess she inherited the "myself" gene; I think David and I are going to be in for quite a ride with this one!

I love watching David with her too. He is sooooo good with her. Both Penelope and I are so blessed. I never in my wildest dreams would imagine the amazing husband I would end up loving. He plays with her, feeds her, gets up with her, dresses her, bathes her... and the list goes on and on. I know this might be morbid, but I know that if he was ever her only parents, she would be so well cared for. I love him so much. He has a heart of gold. His kindness is overwhelming, his patience is deep, his devotion to those he loves is beautiful, and I must mention that his sense of humor makes me belly laugh quite often.

I am so happy to be a part of this wonderful family. It is worth the world.