Brownie Uniform - Mid to late 1970's

Pee Wee Cheerleader Uniform - Circle 1981 or 1982

One neat thing about the cheerleader uniform is that I reconnected with my cheering partner through Facebook.  She was my best friend for the two years I attended this particular school, and we never forgot each other!

We just began a new semester, and although most of my students stayed with me, I obtained twelve new ones.

Surprisingly, the new students aren’t the ones giving me fits.  It’s the other ones.

I’ve cried a bit this week out…feeling very inadequate.

Yesterday, after allowing myself to wallow around in a self-induced pity party, I pulled up my bootstraps and decided to get on with life.

Oh, and I prayed.

Dang.

Should have done that first.

God is so good.

He revealed a plan to me.

I wove together a story after digging around in a couple of closets for the items I needed.

Today, after my students completed their bellwork and independent reading, I explained that I was going to tell them a true story.

I began my story by telling them that when I began the ninth grade I was butt-ugly with my uber short hair.  I showed them the front of my yearbook from 1985.

I explained how the seniors looked huge and oh so amazing in their coiffed dos and fancy duds.

I was not confident, didn’t fit in, and thought that the twelfth grade seemed very far away.

The year, I went on to say, flew by, and before I knew it, I was in the 10th grade.

I explained that I’d gotten myself a boyfriend the year before, broken up with him for cheating on me, and then got another boyfriend who asked me to the prom.

I also told them that I was gaining confidence and even played basketball…

Yes, that’s the uniform I was supposed to return but, in true teenager fashion, forgot.  Those are even the shorts I wore.

My students were shocked, amazed, and humored.

I held up my 1987 yearbook and told them that my junior year was when I started having fun.  My hair had finally grown out, and I had joined various clubs.  The Juniors fixed up the gym for the prom (tradition), and I was in a couple of plays.

My story continued.

As I entered the 12th grade, I couldn’t believe I was finally a senior.  I was president of the Pep Club, a member of the Beta Club, yearbook editor or co-editor, and a host of other things.  I kept the stats for the boys basketball team and watched in pride as we made it to the state finals.

I showed them my memory book, and they were amazed.

It was huge…barely containing the stuff I’d stuck inside.

I explained that before I knew it, May 22nd came around…

That’s when I slowly pulled out my high school cap and gown, taking my time in adding my Salutatorian panel and cord.

I walked around the room and let them look at the stitching and asked if they knew what the word was and what it meant.

One of my first period students didn’t recognize the word, but he understood the meaning.  “You was smart, Mrs. AuburnChick,” is what he said.

I pulled my hair out of its ponytail and put on the cap.

You can imagine their looks as I hung my tassel with the year ’88 over the side.

Then, I explained that as Salutatorian, I got to do something very special.  I walked to the TV and turned it on, pressing the play button on the VCR.

Oh yes, my twangy, Alabama voice spewed forth, and they were speechless.

I told them that those four years of high school had flown by quicker than I’d ever thought, and the only way I got to the end was by keeping my eye on the prize…graduation.

Next, I explained that my education had not stopped there but had continued, albeit with a long break, until I finished up at Troy.  I put on that gown as well and showed them a picture taken that day.

I asked my students how many of them wanted to continue to college.  Nearly all of them raised their hands.

I was so proud!

I expounded even further (I do tend to talk a lot) because I wanted my students to know that though I look like I’ve had an easy life, the truth is that I went through a lot of hard times when I was young.  I’ve known what it’s like to be the child of a single parent and all of the challenges that come with being on your own a lot.  I know what it’s like to be hungry.  There wasn’t much money when I was young.

As I shared these personal details, I watched kids faces register surprise.  One of my gals sat, tears streaming down her face, as she listened.  This little girl has had a very rough go of it.  I know some of the details of her life, and I’m amazed that she’s in school and excelling.

I ended my story by telling my students that every time they act poorly in class, they take their eyes off of the prize and deny others to reach their goals as well.

Oh my gosh.

It was powerful, to say the least.

I ended the story and jumped into the lesson of the day.  One of my classes, an especially unruly bunch, tried to get out of hand again (short memories, eh?).

I asked them to raise their hands if they had their eyes on the prize.

Everyone raised their hands.

Then, they were silent as they awaited further instruction.

Time will tell if story time leaves a permanent impression.

I’ve got a red cap and gown from the school, and after ironing the gown, I’m going to hang it in the front of my room…a permanent fixture in the classroom and a visible reminder of the story and their mission…to keep their eyes on the prize.

Ok, so my title is lame.  I’ll admit it.  I would chalk it up to Mommy Brain, but Chicky just turned 20, and Rooster graduated early, so I’m kind-of sort-of done parenting (not that we ever completely finish).  No, I’ll blame the fact that I’m treading water to stay afloat in this, month one into the second half of my second year of teaching.

Whew, what a mouthful!

Ok, so here’s the deal.  Joyce, oh wonderful Joyce, posts the questions on her blog.  You copy and answer on your own blog.  Then, you link back up on hers.  Go back and visit other bloggers who’ve linked up, and VOILA…new friends!

Now, on to my own answers.

1.  The NFL playoffs were held this past weekend and this year’s Superbowl lineup will feature The New York Giants versus The New England Patriots. How do you define ‘patriot’?

Isn’t a patriot a Mel Gibson lookalike running with a flag across a field, inspiring others not to give up, while killing the British dude who killed his son?

Oh.  Wait.  That’s the movie.

Ok…seriously, a patriot, in my humble opinion, is someone who stands up for freedom in the face of massive opposition.  A patriot is someone willing to give up his or her life so that others can enjoy the freedoms that man should naturally be given.

2.  What’s something in your life right now that feels like a ‘giant‘?

When I think of a giant, I tend to think the Goliath kind…as in seemingly insurmountable.  Right now, I’m looking at the seemingly long road that I’m on as I begin my reading certification classes.  That is my giant right now, but with God’s help, I will meet it head on and get through the challenges I’ll face on the journey.

3.  What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think back to being 18?

Uncertainty is what comes to mind.  I knew that things were about to change in my life, and even back then, I did not adjust to change well.  I like my routines, and graduating from high school threw a huge wrench into my carefully managed life.

4.  Coconut-mashed potatoes-vanilla ice cream-mayonnaise…which white food would be the hardest to give up?

I despise mayo (have you ever heard the joke about martian pimple juice?), I can’t have ice cream or traditional mashed potatoes, and I really don’t eat coconut (though I do like the taste), so this is a no-brainer for me.

5.  Describe an incident or a day you remember as the coldest you’ve ever experienced?

As a soccer mom, I’ve endured many, many, many cold days.  I’m going to describe two because I cannot decide which was worse.  The first was a game Chicky played somewhere in Georgia.  The morning was C-O-L-D, and back then, I did not have Mr. Heater.  I wrapped up in so many blankets that you could not even see my face.  Unfortunately, a fellow soccer dad took my picture.  I’m sure he has it somewhere.

The second day I can recall was another soccer event, and if I’m not mistaken, we were playing somewhere in Georgia.  Come to think of it, what is up with Georgia?  It’s a SOUTHERN state, which should mean there’s heat!  Anyhoo, Chicky’s team had to play at o’dark thirty in the morning, and it was cold and rainy.  It was a miserable day, but that wasn’t the coldest part.  Chicky’s team played a second game, and it was still raining.  Still, not the coldest of the day.  Her team played a third game that day…completely wrong, if you ask me, for kids to be playing three games in one day in a tournament, but that’s just my opinion.  Well, it was the championship game, and it was late in the day…dark, in fact, and…you guessed it…it was raining again.  The wind was blowing, which made the temperature drop to probably 20-something degrees.  I honestly do not know how those girls played that game.  They could barely move because they were frozen stiff.

It was the most miserable I’ve ever been at a game.

The only good thing about the game is that we won, beating the Tennessee state champions.

6.  You’re hosting a brunch…what’s your favorite dish to prepare and serve?

HA, HA, HA!!!  I don’t host ANYTHING, so I really cannot even begin to answer this question!  In fact, have I ever eaten brunch?  I’m not sure that I have.  In all honesty, I’m not much of a party girl, and I’ve never had a desire to host a brunch, so I have no clue what I’d serve.  I’m pretty lame, eh?

7.  How do you combat negative thinking?

I allow myself to indulge in it for a few minutes, then I do a reality check.  I always remind myself that there’s someone out there with lots worse problems than me and, besides that, God is on my side, so how can I complain about anything?

8.  My Random Thought

A couple of weeks ago, I got a wild hair and decided to buy a new printer.  What prompted this decision?  Well, maybe the fact that the documentation I need to print for my first reading certification class is over 100 pages long, and I really wanted to duplex the stuff without manually turning the pages over.  Plus, I wanted a scanner that actually worked with my MacBook Pro.  So, I splurged on this, which was actually on sale for $50 off at Best Buy…

It’s an HP Photosmart 7510, and it looks lovely on my desk.  I especially like the touch screen that connects wirelessly to the internet and other computers…

There was a slight problem, though.

My MacBook wasn’t playing nice with the duplexer.

Oy.  I tried and tried to get Word to print two-sided, but it wouldn’t.  I’m a techie by trade, and I tried every search phrase possible and read every cotton-pickin thing I could find.  Nothing worked.

Finally, I decided to upgrade my OS from 10.5.8 to Snow Leopard.

I ordered the DVD through the Apple site (this is not a commercial, by the way), and I installed it last night.  Then, I ran the updates to get it to 10.6.8.

Something magical happened.

My printer driver got fixed, and I can now print two-sided!!!!!!

I love it when God allows me to fix the computer problems in my home (I attribute this to Him because my brain is so fried lately that I could not possibly do it on my own).

One other neat thing I successfully accomplished was printing an email wirelessly from my phone to my printer!  Woo Hoo!

If you read my blog yesterday, you’ll know that my week had a rough start.  My classes gave me a ROUGH time on Monday.  Things were so much better on Tuesday, I’m happy to report.  It turns out that writing kids up sets an example for other students.  Mrs. AuburnChick’s one tough cookie.

Honestly, I wanted to title this post, “Monday Sucked,” but the language seemed a bit vulgar for a high school teacher.

Still, I just said it, didn’t I.

Seriously, what made yesterday so rough?

Hmmm…first of all, it was the first day of a new semester.  Though I kept most of my students…intensive reading classes run all year long…I lost six and gained around twelve.

It.

Was.

Ugly.

I’d spent most of the weekend prepping and thought I had my act together.

I should have known, though, as I tossed and turned Sunday night, that my hopes were based upon fluff and inexperience.

Acclimating the new students to established routines was h-e-double-hockey-sticks.

Except for my fourth period class who, as usual, proved to be my saving grace.

First of all, I made the mistake of placing a new, unexpected student beside a hormonal, girl-crazy boy.

Oh Lord help us.

After class, I changed her seating.  She’ll be surprised when she comes to class today.

Second, I made the mistake of snapping my fingers to get my students’ attention.

Oh Lord help me.

One of my new students took offense, telling me not to snap at him like he was a dog.

I ate some crow and apologized.

I think he’s going to forgive me.

Another of my classes went hog wild for no conceivable reason.  The new students were quiet, so I can’t blame them.

Let’s just say that mamas and grandmamas were called after school.

Lord help me.

All of this follows an episode last week when a student who was not even one of mine called me “Mufasa,” after the Lion King character (watch to the end)…

She was trying to prove that she wasn’t afraid of me.

And she did the arm thing where she waved me off.

This after she disturbed my class by yelling in the hallway and challenged my authority to write her up.

Yeah.

Not too bright.

So, it’s no surprise that I went into school determined to set firm boundaries.

I’ve got a lot to teach between now and FCAT time…April…and I cannot afford to waste precious minutes disciplining teenagers who know what’s expected of them.

A fellow teacher gave me the following script, which I’m going to have students read out when I require them to call their parents, from my classroom, if they misbehave or repeatedly fail to turn in work…

Oh, Manic Monday, how you tried to thwart me from enjoying the dream I long nurtured, but I have a little secret for you.

Tuesday came, and I’m hopefully kicking its butt even as my readers pore over my heartfelt words.

I’d show you what he did to Rooster’s room, but I deleted the picture…thinking I’d already uploaded it to Flickr.  It’s just as well.  There’s no need to make him look too naughty.

As such, we made the wise decision that the pup should not be allowed to roam free while we are out and about.

Hence, the crate, which we got back from the people we’d loaned it to…

He’s not too fond of it…don’t let the picture fool you.  We usually have to coax him in there by throwing in a treat, although I have discovered that when he’s really tired at night, and Rooster is spending the night elsewhere (Gambit usually sleeps with Rooster), then Gambit walks right in, no treat needed.

Sunday, while I was vacuuming the house (Rooster was gone to a retreat, so I was doing his chores), I discovered that we are getting black marks on the floor beneath the crate, so I decided to buy a small rug to place under it.  Upon closer inspection, though, the Mr. discovered that the crate was missing the bottom part of the cage, and that the plastic tray was, essentially, free to move about.  Not only that, but the tray was cracked in several places.  Because the metal piece was missing, the crate’s corners were sitting directly on the floor, leaving the black marks.

It was time to buy a new crate.

Crates are not cheap.  We’d already bought two over the course of our pet ownership, so we knew, but trudge to PetSmart, I did, and came home with this…

It’s a Kong, and if you’re familiar with dog products, the brand Kong is known for its durability.

The crate was on sale, though it was still not cheap, but it seems to have been worth the cost.  What I like about it is the door that slides up and rests on top of the crate.  Actually, the crate has two doors, and both slide up…

The crate is very durable…the steel or whatever metal it is much thicker than the last crate.

It’s also an inch bigger all the way around, giving our little guy a bit more room to be comfortable.

I’d call that an upgrade!!

She’s 20 years old today and officially leaving teenager-dom behind.

What’s it like to have a child reach this milestone?

It’s strange, really.

To think that my baby girl is beginning the third decade of her life just seems rather odd.

People always tell you to enjoy your babies…that time will pass by quickly.

It’s difficult to appreciate their words when you’re having trouble staying awake at work because you were up all night with a screaming child who had an ear infection or sat in a steamy shower for several hours to help your child’s croup clear up.

I remember when I quit working to stay home full time.

Chickie was a very active three-and-a-half year old.  Rooster had just turned one.

I wasn’t used to being with them 24/7.  There were afternoons when I laid on the floor and begged the clock to move faster.

The adjustment period lasted three months, and then I got into the swing of things and never looked back.

Being at home for so many years and even working part time later so I wouldn’t miss the important stuff provided many opportunities for memory making.

The memories come flooding randomly these days but, especially, on birthdays.

I remember several birthday parties at the skating rink in south Florida.  Chicky learned how to politely thank her friends for Barbies they’d gifted her but that she already had at home.  She’d look over at me with a knowing look, turn back to the person, and smile and say thank you.

As a stay-at-home mom, I spent a lot of time in Chicky’s classroom in elementary school, and I remember many birthdays spent carting specially-decorated cupcakes for school celebrations.  Chicky’s eyes lit up in anticipation when I arrived with those treats.

I remember the first birthday Chicky celebrated in Podunk, USA.  She’d invited the entire soccer team…her new friends…and though we were renting a small house, the girls had a wonderful time.  I don’t remember exactly what they did that night, but I do remember a lot of laughter and, perhaps, the girls running and jumping off of couches into mattresses?  (The Mr. supervised that activity.)  I made heavily-laden chocolate chip pancakes the next morning.  The girls had to be rolled out because their tummies were so full.

I remember another birthday, this one in our new home, when the girls went out and had a silly string fight.  Poor Chicky and her naturally curly hair.  It took days to get all of the stuff out of her hair.  I was still finding silly string on my garage wall months later!

I remember Chicky’s 16th birthday when she thought she was getting a car (Rooster had given her a keychain) but got diamond stud earrings and a beautiful jewelry box instead.

There were tears of disappointment shed that day, but Chicky grew up a lot because of it, and we laugh about it now.

With Chicky gone to college, we can’t spend her birthdays with her any more, and I find that sad, relying, instead, on the mailman to deliver surprises for us.

Still, it’s a part of life…children grow up, we miss them, and we hold on to the memories of their youth.

At the same time, we anticipate the excitement of the future that awaits our now-grown children who are a little more mature (hopefully) and ready to face their futures head on.

Happy 20th Birthday to my Chicky Poo.  You’re growing into a lovely young lady, and I couldn’t be more proud of you.

I’m so grateful that the Lord brought you into my life, and I pray that as you begin your 20th year of life, you will daily praise Him and turn to Him for all things.  (I also pray that you will remember to send thank you notes for the gifts you receive…Facebook “thanks” aren’t enough.  Thanks for letting me diverge from my topic a bit.)

I love you with all of my heart.

Well, I’m done.

Yes, he was.

Oh wait.  You’re probably wondering what in the world I’m talking about.

Well, in case you didn’t know, my Rooster boy entered the 12th grade this year.

As in Senior.

As in final year of high school.

Yeah.

I don’t know how that happened.

I think I pulled a Rip Van Winkle and slept through the last twenty years.

Our school district has this little thing called “Early Graduation,” which allows students to graduate early if they have accrued the required credits that the state of Florida has decided makes kids “smart enough to go out into the big, bad world.”

Two years ago, I gave Chicky the option to graduate early, but she decided not to.  Good thing too because her high school soccer team went to State that year, and she would not have been able to participate if she’d finished early.  However, when she went back to school after Christmas, she regretted her decision.

Honestly, she was FINISHED.  That spring, she only had one academic class.

What a waste of time.

So, two years later, I gave Rooster the option.  Honestly, I didn’t really want him to finish early.  He had the option of taking dual enrolled classes at the District’s expense.

In the end, though, he decided he was finished mentally.

He’s been bored through most of high school.  His classes have been fairly easy for him.

And so, last week, as he finished final exams, he posted the comment above.

It was bittersweet.

In fact, the entire day had a strange feel to it.  The sadness began as soon as I emerged from my room.

For almost fifteen years, the kids and I have sat at the kitchen table before school each morning and read devotions.

We’ve taken turns reading from our Bibles.

We’ve read through many books.  My Bible has the small notations to prove where we left off each day.

After Chicky graduated, we divided the verses in half.

We’ve read a number of devotional books, and Rooster and I had recently started round two of a book that is based on Martin Luther’s writings.

It hit me on Thursday, Rooster’s last day of high school, that this would be the last time we’d sit together in such roles.

I did not cry, choosing instead to put on a brave face.

I offered to buy him Starbucks on the way to school.

See, Rooster and I used to stop at the gas station that was located across the street from his middle school and get hot chocolates on cold mornings and donuts and other yummies on other mornings.  Don’t tell Chicky, but this was AFTER we’d drop her off at high school.

It was our special time to be together.

Stopping at Starbucks was an occasional treat during his high school years.

The day went on, and I administered exams to my own classes, feeling relieved when the final bell rang.

The strange thing was that though he got finished early (it was a half day), he went out to lunch with friends (another sign of his being older), and I stayed at school to work, entering grades in a frenzied manner and prepping my room for Monday (we were going to have Friday off).

It was a sign of what things will be like from here on out.

As he’s getting older, so am I, moving along in my career as he moves along in his education.

Still, it’s a bittersweet time.

Though I’ll never stop being a parent, offering advice, or being a listening ear, the days of overseeing every single detail of my children’s’ lives are over.

After almost twenty years of parenthood, another chickadee is getting ready to fly the coup.

Well, I’m done.

Those words could have been posted on my wall as well.

We’ve come full circle.

No?

Well, that’s probably because it doesn’t exist.

But it should.

If I could hug an inventor, it would be the person who came up with this handy-dandy contraption…

Three guesses as what this thing is.

Here’s a clue…

The machine is a Scantron, and it’s used for counting the number of correct exam answers that students bubble in on forms similar to the one above.

I’d never used the machine before, but after a teacher suggested that I use the forms to make grading easier, I tweaked my exam and…well…VOILA!

I had no clue how to check my exams, but the wonderful media specialist at my school walked me through the steps.

The first thing that caught my attention was the sound.

Do y’all remember the days of dot matrix printers?  Remember the sounds they made as the cartridges made their way back and forth across the papers?

That, my friends, is what a Scantron sounds like as the forms get sucked across the scanner.

For a techie like me, it was music to my ears.

I was in love.

I googled for who invented the machine, and Cha Cha (the know-it-all for random bits of knowledge) claims that the Scantron began as a subsidiary of John Harland, a company based in California.

Still, I think someone deserves a hug for making teachers’ lives easier.

If I have a one complaint (you’ve gotta take the good with the bad, don’t you know), it’s that the machine doesn’t come with a short response answer checker.

THAT would have deserved a kiss too!

As you know, Chicky plays soccer in college.

That is why I was not too happy when she called and asked me to mail her SOCCER CLEATS to her because she had left them at home.

Really?

With Spring Training just around the corner?

Oy.

Before I got them mailed, she rang me up again.  The conversation went something like this:

“Mama, have you mailed my shoes yet?”

“Nope.  Gonna do it in a couple of days.”

“Feel free to include a Ben Franklin,” she said coyly.

“I don’t know what fantasy world you’re living in, but keep on dreaming,” I said in response.

Yes, I’m a nurturing mother, aren’t I?

After I packed her box and sent it on its way, I sent her the following text:  “I just mailed your shoes, and I included a little something extra.”

On Tuesday evening, I called to see if she had received her shoes.  The conversation went something like this:

“Hi Chicky!  Did you get your shoes?”

“Yes, I sure did.  I was SO EXCITED because I thought you had mailed my birthday present, so I opened it right in class.”

Uh oh.

“Um, yeah, and I made a really big deal of ripping off the tape, so people were looking at me when I opened it.”

Oh my.

“Thanks a lot for the ‘extras” you put in there.  I was so embarrassed!”

Laughter now.

Why, you might ask?

Well, see, a week before she’d asked me to mail the box, she had called to tell me that she’d left her feminine products at home, and could I please provide the money to purchase more (i.e. could she use the family’s bank card).  I’d gotten on her case about leaving her stuff at home.

If you’re good at making predictions, you’ll know what’s coming.

If not, I’ll gently explain.

Not only had I mailed her the forgotten cleats, but I’d sprinkled her also-requested girlie stuff in with them.

Oh yes.

Never did I anticipate that she would open her box in class.

Um, yeah.

I think I might have to wait another year before I win Mother of the Year Award.

heeheehee

Postscript to this Post:  I mailed a birthday present to Chicky.  I called her to let her know it will be safe to open the package in front of other people.

heeheehee

Joyce is at it again, and the questions sure are fun this week!  Play along!  You’ll make life-long bloggy friends in the process!

1.  A new Miss America was crowned on Saturday night-did you watch? If you were a contestant what would your talent be?

I did not watch the show.  If I were a contestant, my talent would be balancing a very full plate on the very tip of one finger because that seems to be what I’ve been doing for the last couple of years.

2.  Do you have houseplants? Real or fake?

I have four real houseplants.  One is a plant that Chicky’s best friend gave her after she underwent surgery in the 9th grade.  Two were free plants that Home Depot gave out one weekend, and the other is a bamboo plant that I purchased around the same time that Chicky had her surgery.  I also have fake plants that we purchased to spruce up the house we eventually sold when we moved away from south Florida.

3.  When you were in school did you speak up or were you more of the hide your face, avoid eye contact, and pray the teacher didn’t call on you type of student?

I think I was kind of shy during class.  Honestly, I cannot remember.  I do know that I preferred to sit near the front, although in retrospect, all of the fun was happening in the back of the room!

As a teacher, I can spot those kids who try to avoid being called on; however, my desks are not arranged in rows but in clusters to better allow for cooperative learning.  There’s not a lot of hiding or avoiding in my classes!

4.  Next Monday marks the Chinese New Year…what do you order when someone suggests Chinese food?

I usually order Vegetable Lo Mein.  I like the carbs that I get from the pasta, and the veggies are vegan-friendly!

5.  How would you define a miracle? What would it take for you to consider something a miracle?

Every day is a miracle, in my humble opinion.  I see small miracles in the little ways that God orchestrates my day…puts certain people in my path at just the right time.  Big miracles are the healings that seem to “spontaneously” occur.  Such big events draw attention to God’s amazing power.

6.  What’s your favorite Disney song? If you’re stuck you’ll find a list here.

I love The Little Mermaid and especially the song, Part of Your World.

It’s a theme I identify with as well, having struggled for years with feeling like an outsider in my environment.  I’m starting to feel like I fit in…finally…and it’s oh, so nice.  Guess this confidence is related to age and maturity?

7.  I should have _____________ yesterday.

I should have gone to bed earlier yesterday.

I love staying up late.  The only problem is that I have a job that requires getting out of bed before the sun, and this totally bites.  I’m worn out by mid-afternoon but seem to catch my second wind around 7 or 8pm, which makes me think I can stay up late.  By the weekend, I find myself sleeping until 10:30 or 11:00 to catch up.

8.  My Random Thought

I live a very hectic life.  I am under so much pressure as a second year teacher and, most recently, a newly enrolled Reading Endorsement student (a 300-credit program).

A word I’m focusing on this year is BALANCE.

According to dictionary.com, balance can be defined as,

mental steadiness or emotional stability; habit of calm behavior, judgment, etc.