Where's My Spoiler Alert?

Did you ever read a book or see a movie and wish that someone would have told you the “big surprise” about it, or is that just me? I don’t like to be surprised. It's something that I've dealt with since I was a small child, and I just don't like it. I don't like things jumping out at me, I don't like not knowing the end of something, or whats' going to happen. I just don't like it. It takes almost every fiber of my being not to read the end of books when I get a new one. I’m guilty of googling spoilers to movies (sometimes in the theaters) just so I’m not surprised. I don’t like surprises, okay?

Some things can’t be googled, though. Some things you have to find out for yourself, or even wish that someone would clue you in. For example: why doesn’t anyone warn you about what happens when you turn thirty? It is really like that adorable Jennifer Garner movie 13 Going on 30?

Spoiler alert: IT’S NOT.

Here’s why:

Things start to hurt. By “things” I mean body parts. And by “body parts” I mean Hey, did my knees always make that noise when I got out of bed? Guess what? No, no they didn’t. I’m pretty sure that thirty is the age in which your body has had enough and starts to deteriorate. Back aches, muscle pains, head aches, heartburn. I mean, honestly. You’ve gone thirty years in the same body and it’s (hopefully) got all of its originally parts and now it starts to fall apart? How lame.

You literally lose your mind. When I turned thirty I started a blog, started running, and got a tattoo. Maybe that’s not as crazy as quitting your job and moving to some far off place to start a brand new life, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it! To me, thirty is a weird age. You’re not old enough to start worrying about the big stuff and you’re not young enough to get all wild and crazy without looking like a fool. So, what happens? You can’t decide what you want to do and lose your damn mind.

Hangovers. Look. I partied a lot in my younger days. I could hang with the best of them. There were nights when I was pretty sure my liver would have physically removed itself from my body to be free of me (too much?), but now that I’m old? Psssh. First of all, I’m too tired to drink, let alone “party”. And, second of all, when I do “party” it takes days, days to recover. (Please note that when I say “party” I mean have two beers and go to bed after 10PM.)  I used to just be able to grab a McDonald’s breakfast sandwich and chug a Dr. Pepper and all would be just fine. These days there are things that even bacon can’t cure and that scares me.

I’m very tired. Maybe it’s just because I work a lot. Or maybe it’s the fact that turning thirty means you need more sleep than a person that’s…twenty-nine. I swear I didn’t need this much sleep when I was just a wee twenty-nine year old. (Please note: I also do not have children and, yes, I’m complaining about sleep. It’s my blog and I do what I want to.)

Everything you liked you now hate. I’ve basically cleaned out my closet a million times since I’ve turned thirty. I clean out my iTunes, my DVD collection, my classroom, my books (precioussssss). I’m older. More sophisticated. Less Old Navy t-shirts, more LOFT t-shirts! Less boybands, more bands with men who play instruments (BANJOS)! Less books about magical crap…no, I still like that. ;)

Just kidding, I still like most of this stuff. I always regret a clean out. Earlier this week I attempted to clean out my “ironic t-shirt collection”. I ended up getting rid of four shirts. Then I went back into the donation bag and took two of them back. Look, the majority of my shirts are either Harry Potter or Captain America themed and they are awesome. So, not all of your tastes change.

Save the drama for your llama. I’m thirty and I’m over it.

You are, very simply, more awesome. Thirty, flirty, and thriving, right? That’s what people kept telling when I was going through my turning thirty depression. But, really, thirty is pretty cool. You’re thirty years wiser. Thirty years more sturdy. Thirty years of experience for a colleague or friend or kid (if you’ve procreated by the time you hit thirty). Thirty years more awesome.

It’s taken me a while to come to grips with how awesome thirty is, but I kind of like it. Of course, in a few short months I’ll be saying goodbye to thirty. I’ll no longer just be thirty. I’ll be in my thirties.

I probably will lose my mind then. 

PS - I turned thirty a while ago. Another thing? THIRTY MAKES YOU FORGET THINGS. 

The Truth (About Teaching)

I love my job. I say that a lot when I do posts like this, but you have to know it's true. Those cute little kids and all the fun things we do and all those crazy people I work with. Yeah, it's awesome.

BUT! There are some things they just don't teach in school. Some things that the universities and colleges don't seem to have in their budgets to inform those budding teachers about. Here are some of those things.

You work all the time. Like, really. You might be scheduled from 7:30-3:30, but that doesn't always mean you leave on time. If you are one of those people that leave on time, more power to you. I spend more time at work then I do at home, but that's okay. Actually, I work at home, too. So, yeah, you work all the time.

Literally. No one has ever said this. Ever.

Train your bladder. You might not think that going to the bathroom is a big deal or that important to think about when pondering a career in teaching. You never get to pee. Well, that's not exactly true. You can pee when the bell rings, at lunch time, and during your specials. But what if you drink a lot of coffee or try to stay hydrated, huh? THEN WHAT? Then you better make friends with your neighbor because they're all you've got during instruction time.

Paper work. The trees. Teachers killed them all.

Politics. 

Heh. 

Be flexible (and manage well). It's been a while since I've been in school, but I just don't remember talking or learning about being flexible. There's so much planning and practicing lessons, that I think professors forget that kids. Kids ruin all your awesome lessons, man. Think about it for a hot minute. You're on a roll. Kids are engaged, they're raising their hands, answering questions, being nice to each other...and then it happens. It can be anything, really. There can be a spider on the floor, you can trip over your own feet, someone falls out of their chair, or, God forbid, someone farts or something else involved with bodily functions and/or fluids. Point is, no lesson is perfect. You'll be okay. 

Truest story.

Bodily fluids.I mean, while we're on the subject of farting and things...snot, pee, spit...yeah, you're going to see it. Kids put things in their mouths. They sneeze and don't cover it up. Sometimes they pee their pants. (They haven't trained their bladders like you have, okay?) True story: one week I dealt with three accidents. I was not amused. 

Kids are different. Okay, they actually do talk about this one at school, BUT WOW ARE KIDS DIFFERENT. Your class is a melting pot of little minds. It's crazy. Some of them know more than others and some of them know more than YOU. And you get to teach them all, isn't that great? (Yes.)

Parents. Y'all. There seriously needs to be a class about how to deal with parents. Sometimes it very, very difficult. (Because they get very, very crazy.)

Meetings. Basically I'm tired of seeing all of your faces. 

Grades. Who needs 'em? 

So, there are a few things that school doesn't prepare you for. Mostly they're silly and fun, but some of them are true. Teaching is, as I always say, the best job in the world. There are tough times, but the good always outweigh the bad. Even the paperwork and meeting part of the job. I promise. 

Thanks to Kasey, Shawna, Samantha, Mallory, Sarah, Nikki, Stephanie, and Michelle for answering a totally random text and giving me the ideas for this dumb little post. You guys are my favorite. Duh. 

I should probably go do lesson plans or something now, huh? 

XOXO, 

Ashley 

Do Something

There are some days that I feel completely uninspired. Days where I don’t want to leave the couch because that would require effort and movement and doing something.  See, I don’t always like doing things but I’ve found in my old age (THIRTY, man) that doing things makes me…happy.

I like to do things for myself a lot: reading, shopping, running, and movies. Those things are all well good but what I really mean by doing something is doing something for someone else. That’s when I’m at my most inspired.

When I traveled to Guatemala in 2012 it changed my life. That was the first time I really felt that I did something. Of course, spending ten days in a foreign country with only five days of clean clothes will do that to a person. I’m mostly kidding, because once you’re there, working with those amazing people, and seeing their smiling faces because they’re so happy you’re there…it doesn’t matter that you’ve been wearing the same t-shirt for two days.

Worth it. 

That’s what I mean, though. That’s the something you should do. Now, I don’t really mean you should hop a plane to a third-world country (unless you want). That’s a huge something that takes a lot of planning and, you know, money. It was seriously awesome, though.

I climbed a volcano.  Also worth it.

There are so many little things that you can do that can totally change someone’s day: buying them coffee, writing a note, a phone call, a text, even a smile could do that. It’s kind of amazing the way that works sometimes. Also, it’s a little crazy the way one small little gesture works.

If you’re thinking this is turning into a Pay it Forward kind of thing, it is. You want to know why?

Because it’s so easy.

Saying ‘good morning’ or smiling or even waving to someone is the simplest thing you can do. Sure, there are situations where that is pretty difficult, but even in traffic when someone has totally ticked me off I wave and mutter “Jesus loves you” under my breath. Okay, maybe that isn’t really doing something…but it makes me feel better and I don’t swear at idiot drivers.

Doing things and being kind to others is the most important thing we can do for people, in my opinion. Maybe I don’t always do something in the way I’m supposed to, but I try. I try in my classroom with my students, because heaven only knows what one little positive thing will do for them sometimes. I try with people even though sometimes you might think I’m bitchy, but that’s okay. (Just know that I won’t be doing nice things for you anytime soon.)

Imagine what it would be like if we were actually able to do good all the time, to have people see that good, and to pass it on?

Newsflash: IT WOULD BE AWESOME.

I love good things. Good words, good books, good runs, good friends, good drinks, good deeds. If you know me or read this crappy little blog you know I love good.

So, go do some good. Do a nice thing for a friend. For a coworker.

Just do something. 

True Story: Books Ruined My Life

This is the true story of how books ruined my life.

You think I’m joking. Well, I’m not. Books are life-ruiners and it’s about time someone stood up to them. (Or ranted about them a little, whatever.)

I started reading at an early age: letters and sight words and little books. I’m kind of smart that way. Of course, I’m really dumb in other ways, so the reading thing makes up for it, yeah?

My earliest obsession with books started simple enough: Baby-Sitter’s Club Little Sister series and Sweet Valley Twins. Eventually I graduated into the older versions of these series and continued the obsession. Seriously, though. Who didn’t want to be a Wakefield twin growing up? I always favored Elizabeth (Jessica was a flake). And I totally wanted to start my own babysitting club, too. For the record, Mary Anne was my favorite babysitter. She was quiet and nerdy and hey, so was I.  

Don't they just scream "cool"?  

My problem with books started early, obviously. When I was growing up the closest Walmart was an hour or so. I would beg my mom to buy me a book. Not a toy or a new Barbie, a book! So, she’d buy me the book. Then I’d make my parents leave the light in the car on so I could read the book on our way home. I didn’t care if they “couldn’t see” while driving, I needed to read.

I was usually finished with the book by the time we got home. We had that place called a “library”, but renting books really wasn’t my thing. Truth is, it still isn’t. I like to buy and keep. If it’s something I don’t like I usually donate it or take my chances with the used bookstore and earn some credit to buy, you guessed it, more books.

#1 way books ruin my life? They cost money.

#2 way? I don’t have enough money to buy all the books I want.

But I digress. This really isn’t about money or not having enough books. It’s about loving, or loathing, the ones you have.

This weekend I spent a lot of time facedown in the couch because of all my feelings.

#3 way books ruin my life? ALL THE FEELINGS. (Or FEELS.)

Look, if you’re reading this and think I’m weird, that’s okay. Books make me weird. Books make me weird because books make me think and thinking…man, thinking does stuff. The feelings are intense, though. I’ve read so many books in the past few years that sometimes it’s hard to explain what one is about or just exactly why I loved/hated something. There are always that few that stick with you forever, though.

Those are the life-ruiners. I can tell you at exactly which point I lost it Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Only JK Rowling can make you cry with the use of the word “laugh”. Or rather, “last laugh”. (RIP, Fred.) I know the one phrase in The Fault in Our Stars that still gets me teary even though I have yet to bring myself to reread that beautiful piece of words.  

Good books, books that tell about life and relationships and make you a part of that world without even trying…those are the best kind. The ones above are just a couple of the ones that have cut my heart out in the recent past. Also, anything else by John Green can be including. To me he's the #1 Life-Ruiner Ever. I read a lot, okay. Sometimes Kindle .99 cent deals, sometimes the classics. To me, if you think it's good, it's good. If you love the characters and you love the story, that's all there is to it. 

Yep.

Of course, then there’s books like Gone Girl that make you hate every single character and you wouldn’t even care if the earth opened up and they all died. (Secret: Sometimes I feel like this about the Twilight series even though I once loved it so much. Okay, except for Leah. She’s cool.)

But yeah, man. Books. Books are my weakness. When people can put words together to make you fall in love or hate or hope or cry…it’s like magic, you know? It’s magic that people have the guts and the capability to just create people, places, and things and make you love them. That’s how I feel about books. I love them. Okay, I loathe them sometimes, too. Especially when I end up with a tear-stained couch and three days of my life I”ll never get back. 

Also things that are life-ruiners: book to movie adaptions. DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED. 

Use Your Words (Wisely)

I really love words. That might not come as a surprise to anyone, but I’ve been thinking about my relationship with words for a few days now. We’re pretty committed to each other, you see. Words and I get along really well. I love to read them, write them, speak them, sing them, and listen to them. Words do their part for me, too. They can heal, encourage, entertain, and comfort.

Words are powerful.

I think sometimes we forget how powerful they are, because sometimes words do other things like: hurt, embarrass, and discourage others.

In my classroom one of our rules is Use kind words. It sounds pretty simple but often times it’s the hardest rule to follow. For example, this week (three days of school, mind you) I heard a lot of:

“He said I was mean!”

“He doesn’t want to be my partner.”

“They aren’t being fair!”

Yeah, that sound you hear is me banging my head against the wall whilst comforting small children. I love my job.

It’s just crazy that we can choose to use words so flippantly and think that they don’t matter. That because they’re just words, they don’t hurt as much. Words are our most powerful weapons if you ask me. I always think about when students might hit or cause physical harm to another because they’ve gotten their feelings hurt or something didn’t go their way. The automatic response is: “Use your words!” But, man…those can hurt, too.

As a teacher one of my biggest challenges is finding the “right” words to discipline, encourage, teach, and all those other things I do that escape me at the moment. And sometimes it’s really, really tough. It’s tough to have to think about things before they come flying out of your mouth. Personally that’s always been a probably for me. When I was younger I’d just spit out useless facts or stupid stories that would only embarrass me because people look at you like you’ve got five heads. I can’t help it, though. I already told you: I love words. 

Okay, scratch that. I love good words. I love words that encourage and tell stories, which share feelings and give hope. Those are the kind of words I love. Those are the kinds of words I’m going to focus on this year. I don’t want to focus on words that hurt or break down friendships, relationships (personal and professional), or other people. I hope you don’t want to either…*hinthint*.

My life group leaders were recently telling our group about a self-help guru on some morning show who had decided to choose a word and live by it for 2014. It’s an interesting idea. Pick a word and focus on it. Put it in every aspect of your life. To me, that’s one way that words can be powerful in a good way.

I chose the word peace. I want peace in every aspect of my life. Peace in all my relationships, in my job, in my classroom, and in my heart.

Peace out,

Ash 

Top Ten Reasons to Date a Teacher

A while back everyone was crazy about this blog: Don’t Date a Girl Who Teaches

I admit it, it was cute and funny and totally true. Teachers are nuts and you should probably stay away from us. We get super involved in our work and can’t seem to think about anything else from time to time. Sure, that sounds okay to some, but sometimes it can be a little…unhealthy. Not that we can really tell if something is unhealthy anyways, we love our jobs. It’s just that simple.

Anyhow, while thinking about that blog and how great my job is, it dawned on me: teachers are awesome. Of course you should date one. And marry her, too. (Hint.) Here are some reasons why. In no particular order except that I wanted to do this Top Ten style, huzzah. (These are all ridiculous and for funsies, too, okay?)

10. Victory dances. I love to dance. In my classroom we celebrate small victories with dances. Get that math problem right? Dance it out. Answer that question correctly? Dance like nobody’s watching. Think about how awesome it would be to have someone celebrate you with victory dances all the time. (Totally awesome, I know.)

Sadly, all victory dances look like this.

9. I’m a good band-aid putter onner. You got a boo-boo? I’ll fix it! Unless you’re gushing blood or missing a limb, then I’ll most likely write a nurse pass for you.

8. Singing! Singing is even higher than dancing for me. Sometimes I sing responses to questions or even directions. Sometimes it’s really annoying, but most of the time it’s adorable.

 

It really could go either way...

7. You’ll never want for office supplies. Now, don’t take this like I steal them, okay? Mostly I come home with paperclips, pens, Expo markers, and highlighters in my pocket. I’d let you keep them! Other things I come home with in my pockets may include: erasers, toys, rubber bands, small children’s jewelry, coins, and hair clips.

6. Your grammar skills will increase. I’m a teacher, so that will most likely be because I watch over your shoulder as you text/email/converse/write and tell you to fix things so you don’t sound like an idiot. Wouldn't I be helpful?

Don't be this guy.

5. More free stuff! Who doesn’t love free stuff? As part of my job perks, I get a ton of candy on major holidays (and my birthday!), so I’d totally share that with you.

4. Mom’s love me. This is probably because they think I love children and would make an excellent mother to a brood of grandchildren. I mean, this is partly true. Maybe. I think.

This one just made me laugh.

3. Entertainment! Look, I don’t spend my days with children and not have something awesome to talk about. Not a day goes by when one of those little whippersnappers doesn’t do something utterly hilarious (also: ridiculous) that I must share with everyone I know. Kids are funny and they make my life more interesting. Hey, this could be our life. ;)

2. Cheap dates. Spending all day with children is exhausting. I’d probably fall asleep through dinner or a movie. Give me a nice glass of wine and I’m good, you know? (Please note: cheap is not equal to easy.)

1. I look adorable in a cardigan. Also, I have plenty of them.

Not an actual picture of my closet. My cardigans are clearly color coordinated. ROY G. BIV and all that...

So, there you have it. Ten reasons to date a teacher. Sure, they’re a little ridiculous, but so is life so get over it. Dating a teacher could be totally fun! We are great story tellers, always have a pen when you need one, and can communicate multiple feelings with just the raise of an eyebrow.

Tell your friends: teachers are cool. 

Letterman would probably agree. Maybe.

PS - Thanks to SS for helping and making me laugh. 

First Born Problems

When my sister was younger she just wanted to know everything. It was totally endearing, until she couldn’t let something go and bugged us for years with the same question even though no one could give her the “right” answer.

We didn’t have a conventional family, and that was okay with everyone. Sarah, my sister, knew early on that we had different dads. (That makes us half-sisters, but we don’t think of ourselves that way. We aren’t half-people, after all.) When she first learned to talk she called her dad “Tim” a few times, and it was pretty funny.

But the thing that she wanted to know the most about our family, what she really, really needed an answer to was:

Why was Ashley born first?

For a while this was the only question she would ask, and she would get so pissed when my mom didn’t give her the answer she wanted to hear. To me, it was hilarious (and frustrating because, seriously, get over it), but to her it really mattered.

So, kid, here are some reasons why I (and all other older siblings) was born first:

To soften up the folks. Look, you’re going to do a lot of stupid stuff. We, as older siblings, are here to make life a little bit easier on you. Trust me, when I would come home at 3AM it was like WWIII. Now, the ‘rents are over it. You swear in front of them? Nothing. Me? Soap in the mouth. Get a bad grade? You get a “keep trying”. Me? Look, life was hard once I got kicked out of Honor Society. Let’s not talk about the time I had to go to court, okay? Point is: I’ve done it, they’ve dealt with it. You’re in the clear.

Weird.

Torture you, obviously. There are ten years and nine months between my sister and me. That’s a lot of years, so I was basically a built-in babysitter. It was cool, though. I liked spending time with the little ankle-biter. Also, I liked to jump out from behind things and scare her.  It was a game I played. Mostly with myself, though. Of course, when she was crying that just meant I got to comfort her and make her feel better…then do it again. That’s what older siblings are for: to make you fear for your life and then make sure you are safe. Basically, I’d die for you, but in the meantime I’m going to make your life a living hell, okay?

I used to be taller than her!

You’re our slave. As I’m writing this right now my sister is washing my dishes. Enough said, right? But really, as older siblings we really need someone to wait on us. When she’s done, I hope she makes me some coffee.

To be best friends, duh. Being so many years apart was fun for the most part, but eventually our relationship changed. I moved out and moved away, but now that we’re both adults (kind of), it’s pretty cool. Siblings (and cousins) are like our first best friends, a built-in person to share your secrets, sadness, accomplishments, and stories with.

Besties 4Life.

L-O-V-E. Sibling love is special. Like, who else is going to put up with your shit and still like you all the time? We are weird and messed up and sometimes normal, but no one understands you like a brother or sister. (Sorry if you’re an only child. You can borrow my sister anytime.) No one knows what you’ve been through like them.

The family that serves together... 

I was born first, and so were millions of other siblings. We did it for you, you young whippersnappers, get over it.

Of course.