The Socially Incorrect Kim

Tell people you have a child going off to college and they tell you “how hard this time must be for you” or “I hated it when my kids left me” or “I hope my child goes somewhere local I don’t want him/her leaving me just yet.”


I came across this blog post when I was looking for graduation party ideas, the author talked about how the worse day of her life was when her children graduated from high school because she knew they would be leaving her soon.


Are you freakin kidding me?! I am excited for the both of us!


Susan gets to create her own life. I am sure it will have its downs. I am also sure she will create joy and happiness for HERSELF!


I have ‘raised’ her for nineteen years to be able to take care of herself. She can cook, do her own laundry, manage her money, and make her own choices.


As a parent isn’t that what we want? To create independent adults who can succeed on their own in this world? If it’s not than shouldn’t we be raising puppies instead of children?


I am looking forward to the empty nest. It seems like that’s wrong to admit but I will anyway. I look forward to walking around my house naked. I look forward to being able to pick up and leave and not having to worry about someone else’s food or transportation.


Don’t get me wrong I also look forward to the weekends when she comes home and I can spoil her with her favorite foods and a pedicure. I look forward to holidays. I look forward to our new relationship where I am not the dictator. Most of all, I look forward to seeing her become her own person.


I raised her for nineteen years just for this moment. Why is that everyone wants me to be sad that it’s here?

Lois

in·spi·ra·tion
-the action or power of moving the intellect or emotions


The moment I met Lois, she was an inspiration to me.


She inspired me in my writing.
http://speakingaboutthat.blogspot.com/2012/02/life-lessons-from-lois.html

She inspired me in my painting.





She inspried me in my photography.

She continues to inspire me to be a better more kind person.

She will be missed.

Aunt Linda

A week ago today we were on our way to Kansas City. We were going for my Aunt Linda’s funeral. Even though during my adulthood we did not talk much, she remained my favorite aunt. Normally I would not declare such a thing in public but I know this comes as no surprise to anyone and I am pretty sure my other aunts understand.

She had this way of making everyone feel special. She married into a LARGE and LOUD family. My grandparents had nine kids. This equaled to a lot of nieces and nephews; I can safely say she made us each feel like we were special to her.

My mom lived with my Aunt Linda and Uncle Robert. So, when I visited my mother during the summer, I was also visiting them. They took me on adventures ice skating, magic shows, swimming, and fishing just to name a few. Aunt Linda always made wonderful dinners and seemed like almost every night my Uncle Tim and Mark would magically show up right when the food was ready.

I wished and wished they could be my parents. I even told my mom and dad that I thought Aunt Linda and Uncle Robert would make the most wonderful parents and that I wished I could be their daughter. (Not a smart thing to say to your parents when you’re 9!)
As I became an adult and real life happened, it got harder and more complicated to visit. Money and time were always a major problem.

She would send me the occasional card or email. I would occasionally respond back. She always knew what to say and was always supportive.

Last year, Lavender and I went out to Kansas. I had decided it was time for her to meet some of the family. Aunt Linda, Uncle Robert and their daughter were living with my grandparents. They moved in to help with my grandmother who is suffering from Alzheimer’s. Aunt Linda was doing most of the housework and cooking. I wanted to make dinner for her. I made one of my favorite meals. We had a nice evening filled with good conversations. I did not know then that this was going to be the last time I would ever see her.

I went home and continued training for the Chicago Marathon. Aunt Linda and Uncle Robert were the first to support me on my fundraiser for the marathon. That meant so much to me. I was struggling and to get their message of support was just what I needed to give my training a push.

A few weeks ago, I got a card in the mail. It is the last words I will have from Aunt Linda.
“Congratulations on your graduation and new job! We love the person you are becoming, the Kimberly we’ve always loved but with confidence!”

As I stood in my kitchen crying after hearing the news, Lavender told me whatever I wanted to do about going to the funeral we would make happen. I cried out I just want to make her one more dinner and tell her that I think she is amazing.

She was an amazing person.

Stole of Gratitude



Picture is done my great friend and the person who has been capturing my families memories for 18 Years, Dianne.
Check out her website for more information on her work- http://photographybydianne.net/

 I had never heard of a Stole of Gratitude before I picked up my cap and gown.

“The Stole of Gratitude is worn during the commencement ceremony. After the ceremony, the new graduate presents the stole to someone who provided extraordinary help or support, like parents, relatives, or mentors who have helped with wisdom, words of support, or with financial assistance. Immediately after graduation, the graduate may take the stole from around his/her neck and place it around the neck of the recipient.”

I am grateful for so many people.

I am grateful for the boss I had at Starbuck’s when I first started going back to school. Jen was understanding and great about my schedule. She made sure I had off for my school schedule, and that I also had time with my daughter.

I am grateful for my friends who encouraged me and believed in me. They gave me space to vent. They understood when I go months without talking to them because school was just to consuming.

I am grateful for my wife. She edited my papers; made sure I had space to study, and helped me out with anything technical. She took on the financial burden so that I could focus my energy on school. She loved me when I was a crazy, obsessed, and became to detail orientated about a school project. She helped me find 17 copies of Captain Underpants, create a crazy map, and write a paper that I just couldn’t seem to write on my own. Knowing that driving makes me nervous, she drove me to all of my Praxis test.

Last Thursday, the day of my graduation, I went to school early. I sat in my classroom before any of children came in and reflected on how I got here. How I achieved this dream of being a teacher. This is what I wrote on the inside of my stole.

Dear Susan,
I remember my first day of college and the note of encouragement you wrote to me. My first class was a speech. Our first assignment was to write a speech about a person who inspires us. I chose you. I included that note that you wrote to me in my speech.
You have been on this journey from the beginning. I know times it was hard. Every semester I would ask you to put your life on hold when I would say, “after finals.” I am so grateful for you and all your support. Thanks for helping my make my dreams a reality.
Thank you!
I love you.
Love, Mom

An IE What? In English, Please.

I remember as a parent sitting through my first IEP meeting. For those of you that do not know an IEP is Individualized Education Plan and there is a meeting once a year. It is for students that have a disability. My daughter was diagnosed in second grade with a learning disability. That is how I ended up in my first IEP meeting. I was on one side of the table with the ‘experts’ on the other side of the table. I remember how intimidating and scary it all felt. I remember everyone using words and terms that I didn’t understand. I left that meeting feeling awful about myself as a parent. I also felt after I left that everyone in that room was talking about what an awful parent I was and having a good laugh at my lack of education.

I remember the first IEP meeting I set through as a student. The parent brought her youngest son with her and shared her hopes and dreams for her children. She admitted that she could not help them much with their homework because she did not understand it. She told us that her five children all had different dads. She told us that her current ‘baby daddy’ was in jail and that her son’s father the one we were having the IEP meeting for was in prison. She worried about the lack of male role models in her children’s life. She didn’t want them to have the same lifestyle they were seeing. She told us that is why she is here. She wanted to make sure her children got a better education.

She left the room and the other team members turned to me and asked what I thought of Mrs. Z. My heart sank as I felt my nightmare coming true from all of my IEP meetings. I replied that I thought Mrs. Z was a poor struggling mother trying to do the best she could. I said, “I can tell that she cares deeply for her children and that she wants great things for them. She showed up to this meeting today even though she had less than a 24 hour notice, doesn’t drive, and is exhausted from taking care of a toddler. She loves them. That is what I thought of her.” The room chuckled and said I just needed more time.

Educators scream that they want more parent involvement but then talk negatively about the parents. Something needs to change. We are on the same team and we all need to act like it.

I hope I don’t ‘harden' over time. I hope in twenty years I can still see parents who love their child and just want them to have a better life. I hope I still understand what it was like to show up as a single mother with no education and sit on the other side of the table while the ‘experts’ told me about my child. I have 11 IEP’s to have written before the end of the school year. I will be leading the meetings this time. I hope that no mother ever leaves the room and feels like we are talking or laughing about them.

A Piece of Paper

I graduated in December. It was like end of January when they said we could stop by and pick up our diploma. I wasn’t in a hurry. After all it was just a piece of paper. I only needed that piece paper so I could get a job, the paper didn’t mean that much.

Fast forward to March. I find the JOB! I excitedly start the job as a middle school special education teacher. My first few days, I was in a haze. I was trying to figure out how my years (and years) of college translated in the real world. I was feeling overwhelmed. I didn’t know where to start or even how to make a plan to start.

This is when I decided to go pick up that piece of paper. The paper that was meaningless to me. I walk into the office and tell them that I am here to pick up my diploma. The lady behind the counter says, “Congratulations, you must be so proud of yourself!” “Oh and see you have ‘with distinction’ on your diploma that’s impressive,” she adds. Thank you I say in a very monotone voice. Then she hands me the diploma and something comes over me. I hold back tears as I leave the office and head back to my car.

I get inside my car and just start sobbing. I hold in my hands a piece of paper with my name on it. Because I didn’t graduate from high school it is the only diploma I have with my name on it. I had no idea how powerful a piece of paper could feel. All the struggling that it took to get this point came flooding to the surface. It was more than the late nights, the working full time, and being a single mom while trying to go to school. The struggle was overcoming opinions and statistics, facing my fears, and telling myself I was worth it, talented, smart and deserving of an education.

This piece of paper does not help me figure out how to write a lesson plan and make a schedule for 22 students in six different classes, three grades and all different abilities. It does not tell me how to write a real IEP or what to say to parents and teachers. It doesn’t tell me much of anything in the way it relates directly to my job. It does however tell me that I deserve to be here. I will work my butt off to figure out the rest and I already care deeply about my students and want them to succeed. So, lesson plans, schedules, and IEPs will get done even if at times it is overwhelming. And when I start to wonder if I can survive this first year I think I will take a look at that piece of paper, which means a lot to me.

To run or not to run the marathon, that is the question?!

A week ago Monday I went on a ten mile run. During this ten mile run I was reflecting on and comparing this run to my first ten mile run. My first ten mile run was the end of October 2010. I know this because the annual 15K Hot Chocolate Race in Chicago was about a week away. At that time I had only been running for a couple of months but when I first heard about it a Hot Chocolate Race I wanted to run it. However, I talked myself out of signing up for it knowing that I couldn’t run that far. I was mad at myself. Here I was telling myself I couldn’t do something, again. That morning I woke up and just decided to prove to myself that I could do it. So I mapped out my ten miles and took off. It is the first time I remember ever having blisters on the bottoms of my feet but definitely not the last. It felt good to prove to myself that I could do it. It would be another a few months before I did it again but now ten miles is my favorite distance to run when I have the time and the weather is nice.

This run last Monday I was just out enjoying the run. I had nothing to prove. That’s when I started thinking about the marathon. You see almost daily someone ask me if I am going to run the marathon again this year and always tell them I don’t know. I don’t know because we are moving this summer, Lavender’s job is going to be more demanding of her time, Susan graduates, there will be a killer graduation party, Susan will move off to college, and I will hopefully be starting my first teaching job. All of this would take place during peak marathon training. I ran it last year in the middle of student teaching, fundraising, and working but I had something to prove to myself. I needed to prove to myself that I could do it. I needed to tell myself that I could run 26.2 miles in under 6 ½ hours and then do it. I don’t need to prove to myself that I can do this. I already know that I can. I want to run the marathon again but just not this year. I am not going to stop running. I ran all winter long. It’s my therapy. It’s what I do for myself. I will be out this year just enjoying the run. However, come 2013 watch out. I plan on finishing the Chicago Marathon in less than 5 hours!

"I plan to run that race so hard I won't want to think about racing for at least 48 hours."-L. Thorvilson