<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841</id><updated>2011-07-08T08:37:41.520-07:00</updated><category term='http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif'/><title type='text'>iTeach</title><subtitle type='html'>teaching, the Gospel, and trying to change the world.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>40</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-6367372514002566542</id><published>2010-01-23T09:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T09:07:17.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've moved...</title><content type='html'>I've moved my blog.  Please follow me :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://iteachilive.wordpress.com/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-6367372514002566542?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/6367372514002566542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=6367372514002566542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/6367372514002566542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/6367372514002566542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2010/01/ive-moved.html' title='I&apos;ve moved...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-7748989594014629561</id><published>2010-01-22T16:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T16:49:16.927-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You haven't heard this one yet...</title><content type='html'>The majesty of creation is visible everywhere.  The tranquilty of nature, the beauty of relationships, and the little flutters of joy we experience each day are examples.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even more significant are examples of the Gospel that appear.  God has an amazing way of repeating examples of this story everywhere in creation and if we're not careful we just may  miss it.  Science has revealed to me the beauty of creation and the story of the Gospel more than once...it's one of the reasons I love biology so much.  The following story again leaves me awestruck at God's craftmanship of creation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It starts with the human immune system.  The immune system contains various cells such as B-cells, T-cells, and the rarely seen antigen presenting cell (APC).  This cell is so rare it can rarely be found...let alone photographed...this image is the first image that was ever taken of this cell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/S1pEOvFHBOI/AAAAAAAAAI4/MKPZvSWelGA/s1600-h/antigen+presenting+cell.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 272px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/S1pEOvFHBOI/AAAAAAAAAI4/MKPZvSWelGA/s320/antigen+presenting+cell.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429727320695309538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big deal, right?  Just a cell...let me explain how this cell works.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In order for your immune system to attack a foreign body, kill it, and save you, it must first recognize an invader.  This cell, the APC, recognizes invading viruses.  It engulfs them and then covers itself in the virus protein.  The other immune cells then recognize the APC as a virus and kill it.  They now know how to recognize invaders and go on to save you from death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you miss it?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's recap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pristine, pefectly health APC cell comes across a virus.  It then takes on the virus, literally covers itself with it, becomes the virus, and then dies to save our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, perfect man, Son of God comes to our broken world of sin.  He takes on our sin and dies for us on the cross so we may have eternal life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how our immune systems are designed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no God?  There is no creator?  The gospel is a fairy tale?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARE YOU KIDDING?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way our bodies protect us against attack is modeled after the Gospel that saves our souls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-7748989594014629561?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/7748989594014629561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=7748989594014629561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/7748989594014629561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/7748989594014629561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2010/01/you-havent-heard-this-one-yet.html' title='You haven&apos;t heard this one yet...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/S1pEOvFHBOI/AAAAAAAAAI4/MKPZvSWelGA/s72-c/antigen+presenting+cell.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-2726848302285909324</id><published>2010-01-20T15:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T16:02:42.739-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thriving and surviving</title><content type='html'>What exaclty does each of those words mean in my daily life?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are we always expected to be thriving?  Is it ok to survive?  I believe that God expects us to struggle, to barely crawl, or sometimes just to lean on Him.  However, when I think of the word survive...a dark cloud drifts in.  It doesn't seem appropriate to ever just survive.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there a middle ground?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the answer is no.  However, I know the human perspective is limited and this seems to be a case in which that matters.  Do we understand God's definition of thriving and surviving?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Webster defines "to thrive" as follows:&lt;br /&gt;(1) to grow vigorously&lt;br /&gt;(2) to gain in wealth or possessions : prosper&lt;br /&gt;(3) to progress toward or realize a goal despite or because of circumstances —often used with on &lt;thrives on conflict&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and defines "to survive:&lt;br /&gt;(1) to remain alive or in existence : live on&lt;br /&gt;(2) to continue to function or prosper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year is rough...I've often classified my state as surving..  Along with this has come a nagging sense of guilt that I'm not being faithful to what God has asked me to do; or, more often, guilty of having a bad attitude and not approaching life with joy.  I've felt as though God has called us to a life in which we thrive and that I was failing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my definition is wrong.  I defined thriving as feeling energetic, adventerous, significant, showing obvious growth, or being optimisitic.  I also defined it as feeling in control and independent...which is the opposite of what this year has been.  I've been more dependent on the help of others, support of others, and encouragement by my friends and family then ever before.  I've also felt maddenly out of control.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I be thriving?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I stopped.  I reflected and I asked God to perform a miracle.  It was a bad day and I was spent.  He spoke...finally.  Thriving means to grow vigourously or to progress towards a goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I want to be a successful professional and good teacher.  But it's not the ultimate goal.  I want to be a woman of God.  I've learned more through this year of trail then any other time in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learned to lean...minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learned to trust...I don't know why I'm here or if I'm even contributing at all, but God wants me here...so I'll trust him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learned to be loved.  Everyone I love is far away...and the people here are often downright mean or distant.  I have to trust that God loves me no matter what and that it can be enough for me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm very stubborn and independent.  Some of those I've trusted most have wounded me the worst in my life.  God is not a person, I know He is perfect, but that doesn't make it easier to remember these things in the darkest moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness there is grace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-2726848302285909324?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/2726848302285909324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=2726848302285909324' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/2726848302285909324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/2726848302285909324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2010/01/thriving-and-surviving.html' title='Thriving and surviving'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-2407013055315023263</id><published>2010-01-13T15:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T16:02:48.237-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There just isn't enough time to reflect on the myriad of events, interactions, and frustrations that occur each day in my classroom, with administration, and in the hallway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it's enough to just want to throw in the towel.  I get lost in which battle I'm trying to fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cam here for one battle...these kids are more likely to drop-out then go to college.  Most of them cannot read at grade level...math is even worse.  They have to resist gangs, teen pregnancy, chaotic homes, abuse, neglect, hunger, betrayl from those who are supposed to care for them, and who knows what else.  Some of their parents are a mere four or five years older then I.  They need help, advocates, love, care, attention, devotion, and someone who can tell them they can make it and push them to get there.  Many people make resolution and give up when the road gets tough...same with these kids.  It's hard...a battle...constant and draining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that was all I expected.  I didn't expect for my principal to tell me I didn't care and that it was evident, that I had poor regard for classroom management, that I didn't know how to lesson plan, that I made to many copies, that I didn't write dark enough on the chalkboard, that my room was disorganized, and all the other accusations I have felt.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't expect parents response to my phone calls to be "she said your class is boring and she doesn't like science" or "he got all C's so I bought him an iphone".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What battle do I even fight?  I'm fighting to survive the work week...thoughts of thriving have been long gone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But am I even fighting for these kids anymore?  My principal is the reason the school is failing...without a doubt.  But she runs us...what do we do?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it's anything like the last two years 50% of the staff will quit...the kids will lose stability...again.  Collaboration will fail, commradrie will fail, and the cycle will continue.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-2407013055315023263?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/2407013055315023263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=2407013055315023263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/2407013055315023263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/2407013055315023263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2010/01/there-just-isnt-enough-time-to-reflect.html' title=''/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-3093597242993286937</id><published>2009-12-02T17:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T17:26:57.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A little crushed.</title><content type='html'>Breaks are amazing.  The end of breaks are overwhelming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone once said "If you don't like something, work hard to change it.  If you do that and you still don't like it you can quit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying so hard to do well at work.  To figure out organization, lesson planning, classroom management, and how to work with all new people I don't know.  To be honest though, I hate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year I would enjoy going to school.  I was either excited about something I was going to try or excited about something else that was going to happen.  Day's off were nice...not a goal to strive to in hopes of not going insane by the time they come around.  The motivation to make creative lessons or try labs is completely gone.  Constant evaluations have left me feeling discouraged and incompetent.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be hopeful.  I want to believe I'll catch on and stop being critiqued.  Really though...I want it to be June 10...I want to be done.  I want to move back to Michigan and pretend this never happened.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-3093597242993286937?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/3093597242993286937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=3093597242993286937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/3093597242993286937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/3093597242993286937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/12/little-crushed.html' title='A little crushed.'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-5624151762561171720</id><published>2009-11-26T09:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T10:22:01.998-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mrs., Ms., or Miss</title><content type='html'>DISCLAIMER: this is a bit of a rant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never had any confusion about the rules surrounding the usage of Mrs, Ms, and Miss.  If you are single 0 to 18 you are a Miss.  If you are single above 18 you are a Ms. and if you are married you are a Mrs.  However, there is a growing trend to hyphenate, keep your maiden name, and in decreasing amounts take your husbands last name.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There used to be very little argument about Mrs, Ms, and Miss and taking a married name.  What's changed?  A lot apparently.  So much so that Time felt the need to profile the debate in this &lt;a href="http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1930510,00.html"&gt;editorial&lt;/a&gt; about the development of names.  In summary, the article states that feminists fought for the different titles and that now women can feel free to not care which they use and that most will choose to rotate through the three on any given day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...the biggest achievement is that when one wants to stand alone and receive credit use Ms.  as in Ms. Clinton is Secretary of State, but Mrs. Clinton threw a dinner party.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A small note in the article stated that there is a loss of entitlement when a woman is referred to by her husband's last name.    That being Mrs. "somebody" shows ownership and a loss of female independence.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did that happen?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think most would read this article non-chalantly and agree that it makes sense.  I have to disagree.  Miss, Ms, and Mrs are meant to be very clear terms...not an arbitrary address women pick and choose depending on the situation.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did the connection of marriage between man and women mean that the woman was downgraded and seen as property?  Articles and debates like this give little glimmers into what has happened to marriage in the modern world and why it is falling apart.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does a women have any less credit due to her accomplishments if the name in the news article is Mrs.?  Our society sees the name wrong.  The last name isn't the husbands...it's the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;couple's&lt;/span&gt; last name,but society would argue that the woman was forced to take the husbands name...that she had her name taken from her.  When a man and woman decide to get married they become one unit...physically, emotionally, and spiritually.  It isn't a power struggle for attention or credit.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our society repeatedly and consistently fails to see marriage the way it was intended.  Marriage isn't about a woman belonging to a man.  It is about two people belonging to each other.  As long as journalists and politicians allow stupid debates like this to chip away and distort what the relationship of marriage is there is no use wasting their energies trying to fix the American family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rant over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Thanksgiving to all the Miss's, Ms.'s, Mrs', and Mr's!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-5624151762561171720?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/5624151762561171720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=5624151762561171720' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/5624151762561171720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/5624151762561171720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/11/mrs-ms-or-miss.html' title='Mrs., Ms., or Miss'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-7012964993220831935</id><published>2009-11-21T20:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T20:39:41.998-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Observations.</title><content type='html'>Every time I have an observation...I suffer a ridiculous amount of pressure for three days leading up to it.  I then have three days of dread before I sit in the conference room to be made to feel like a child as my micro-manager principal nit-picks every detail of the 30 minutes she saw and then extrapolates her observation to ALL of my teaching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It isn't that I have a problem being observed or even evaluated.  However, we don't have a set system.  There is nothing to aim for such as the IMPACT system.  She just writes down everything...I mean everything...my last observation included a critique of my ability to write neatly and darkly enough on the chalkboard.  I just need to know how I'm judged and then given guidance as too correct any shortcomings I have shown.  I'm a first year teacher...I know I have short-comings...but help me don't just slap me in the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like what Jay Matthews has to say &lt;a href="http://voices.washingtonpost.com/class-struggle/2009/11/why_not_junk_teacher_evaluatio.html"&gt;here  &lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tend to always agree with him and almost always disagree with the other chick they have blogging.  She says some RIDICULOUS things...like &lt;a href="http://voices.washingtonpost.com/answer-sheet/accountability/my-guest-today-is-marion-1.html#more"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;.  Standards are a good idea...but they need to be national and school funding needs to be INDEPENDENT of community wealth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-7012964993220831935?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/7012964993220831935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=7012964993220831935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/7012964993220831935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/7012964993220831935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/11/observations.html' title='Observations.'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-1752583964354471640</id><published>2009-11-21T20:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T20:27:07.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This weeks quality of work life points...</title><content type='html'>1. Four fights in one day (-2)&lt;br /&gt;2. Having my observation (-10)&lt;br /&gt;3. Getting one more observation out of the way (+10)&lt;br /&gt;4. One of my students is officially a lost run-away (-10)&lt;br /&gt;5. Watching a lot of my students kill it in the musical (+8)...they are so AWESOME&lt;br /&gt;6. Getting a day of leave approved (+10)&lt;br /&gt;7. Getting destroyed for the rest of the meeting under the guise of "the administrator helping out a first year because no one helped her when she was new" (-20)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weeks total: -14...ouch, yea...felt like one of those weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And please don't talk to me about this: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/Swi9cHcP_WI/AAAAAAAAAIc/fue5OMYwcJo/s1600/ohio-state-vs-michigan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 192px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/Swi9cHcP_WI/AAAAAAAAAIc/fue5OMYwcJo/s320/ohio-state-vs-michigan.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406779643389803874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-1752583964354471640?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/1752583964354471640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=1752583964354471640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/1752583964354471640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/1752583964354471640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/11/this-weeks-quality-of-work-life-points.html' title='This weeks quality of work life points...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/Swi9cHcP_WI/AAAAAAAAAIc/fue5OMYwcJo/s72-c/ohio-state-vs-michigan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-7203743196551868528</id><published>2009-11-11T14:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T14:54:26.185-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Answered prayers</title><content type='html'>This week I started working with a new co-teacher.  She is amazing.  She sits and helps the students and controls the discipline issues that come up.  More then that she is just competent and I like her.  I'm hoping that maybe this hour getting a little easier will help with my feelings on life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wake up some mornings and I'm astounded by how hard every single day is.  I lay there for a brief moment feeling suspended in between reality and the way I pictured adult life.  However, it's only a moment because if I dwell to long I probably wouldn't get out of bed.  In fact, I don't know if I would even call in sick...I'd just be frozen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't dream about day to day.  You just dream about the big chunks...when you can buy a dog, getting married, having kids, your first house, picking your own car.  You don't think about the little things though...until your laying in your bed staring at the ceiling wondering how you have ended up where you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no class or internship that prepares you for life...for the day to day.  Maybe that's what makes it such an adventure.  In general I have no idea what the crap I'm doing...but there are moments...moments when everything seems right.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's hoping those moments increase.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-7203743196551868528?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/7203743196551868528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=7203743196551868528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/7203743196551868528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/7203743196551868528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/11/answered-prayers.html' title='Answered prayers'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-2989666553866326821</id><published>2009-11-11T14:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T14:38:05.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>gratitude</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/Svs8xjKUaKI/AAAAAAAAAIM/7a7aduzNYTU/s1600-h/OneThousandGifts.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 114px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/Svs8xjKUaKI/AAAAAAAAAIM/7a7aduzNYTU/s320/OneThousandGifts.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402978999910820002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thirty-six.&lt;br /&gt;Christmas music&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thirty-seven.&lt;br /&gt;Peppermint mocha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thirty-eight.&lt;br /&gt;my amazing family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thirty-nine.&lt;br /&gt;wet-dry hair straightners...save soooo much time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;forty.&lt;br /&gt;daydreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;forty-one.&lt;br /&gt;good observation notes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;forty-two.&lt;br /&gt;good observation notes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;forty-three. &lt;br /&gt;warm apple cider&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;forty-four.&lt;br /&gt;making Christmas cards&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;forty-five.&lt;br /&gt;fun co-workers&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-2989666553866326821?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/2989666553866326821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=2989666553866326821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/2989666553866326821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/2989666553866326821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/11/gratitude.html' title='gratitude'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/Svs8xjKUaKI/AAAAAAAAAIM/7a7aduzNYTU/s72-c/OneThousandGifts.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-2624651221387144923</id><published>2009-11-07T15:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T15:35:50.204-08:00</updated><title type='text'>University of Michigan football</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/SvYEQO1wDrI/AAAAAAAAAH8/0jCTLQlpEj8/s1600-h/bearfaceshame.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/SvYEQO1wDrI/AAAAAAAAAH8/0jCTLQlpEj8/s320/bearfaceshame.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401509479985450674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boys...you need to play in the 3rd and 4th quarters too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-2624651221387144923?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/2624651221387144923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=2624651221387144923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/2624651221387144923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/2624651221387144923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/11/university-of-michigan-football.html' title='University of Michigan football'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/SvYEQO1wDrI/AAAAAAAAAH8/0jCTLQlpEj8/s72-c/bearfaceshame.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-6640920223271719919</id><published>2009-11-06T17:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T17:37:40.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Girly Girl moments I will never have...</title><content type='html'>Just for fun:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I will never read any book written by Stephanie Meyer.  I’m sorry Twilight addicts, but your obsession is beyond my comprehension.  I mean, for goodness sake, the blood sucking, murdering vampires sparkle; how weird is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.I will never tote my dog/pet around with me like a fashion accessory.  Your four-legged friend is a companion, not a fashion accessory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I will never allow a day of feeling overweight or unattractive compromise my daily activities.  There are not enough days at the beach or at the cottage as it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  My make-up/hair routine will never make me late for an event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I will never get upset with a man for holding the door for me, nor will I get upset with him if he doesn’t.  It’s a door, not a social lightning rod.  Don’t turn the simple act of entering a room into a commentary on feminism/your relationship/gender roles.  Again, it’s a door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I will never tote my dog/pet around with me like a fashion accessory.  Your four-legged friend is a companion, not a fashion accessory.  *IN ADDITION* Any dog I own will never be small enough to fit in any form of a bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure I will think of more as I notice more dumb girly things around...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-6640920223271719919?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/6640920223271719919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=6640920223271719919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/6640920223271719919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/6640920223271719919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/11/girly-girl-moments-i-will-never-have.html' title='Girly Girl moments I will never have...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-562733280823786851</id><published>2009-10-25T13:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T13:21:04.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How much should you work?</title><content type='html'>I had an interesting conversation with a friend while watching the miserable Penn St. v. U of M football game.  She discussed how much we work and that you can't be doing your job well if you are not doing work at home/thinking about work at home.  She said that everyone she knows across many fields (non-profits, teaching, engineering, politics, medicine, law) work long hours and put in time from home.  We have to be constantly working in order to be successful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that true?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;American's work more than any other country.  Is that a good thing?  How has it affected our productivity?  Our economy?  Our families?  Our health?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-562733280823786851?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/562733280823786851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=562733280823786851' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/562733280823786851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/562733280823786851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/10/how-much-should-you-work.html' title='How much should you work?'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-8451119366567942513</id><published>2009-10-24T09:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T10:05:08.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cooking for one</title><content type='html'>This week is a short week with no "mandatory fun night" and a trip home packed into the weekend...so this week's menu is a bit short&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday: &lt;a href="http://recipes.womenshealthmag.com/Recipe/chicken-pesto-pizza.aspx"&gt;Chicken Pesto Pizza&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday:&lt;br /&gt;I'm in a hurry ham and cheese omelet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday:&lt;br /&gt;Faijitas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday:&lt;br /&gt;airport food&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-8451119366567942513?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/8451119366567942513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=8451119366567942513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/8451119366567942513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/8451119366567942513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/10/cooking-for-one.html' title='Cooking for one'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-951817895642380124</id><published>2009-10-21T14:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T14:55:10.097-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>twenty-five.&lt;br /&gt;pandora radio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;twenty-six. &lt;br /&gt;chocolate mint coffee creamer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;twenty-seven.&lt;br /&gt;Explaining to a kid that he will get beat up in high school if he continues to treat his classmates in the manner he does&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;twenty-eight.&lt;br /&gt;old memories that come back unexpectedly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;twenty-nine.&lt;br /&gt;snail mail from people you didn't think would ever send you mail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thirty.&lt;br /&gt;single digit countdowns to something you are excited about&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thirty-one.&lt;br /&gt;growing up twenty minutes from Lake Michigan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thirty-two.&lt;br /&gt;the plant from my Grandma's funeral that keeps growing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thirty-three.&lt;br /&gt;The strength and peace from God to keep going when everyone would understand if you quit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thirty-four.&lt;br /&gt;ice cream for dinner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thirty-five.&lt;br /&gt;Middle schooler smiles&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-951817895642380124?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/951817895642380124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=951817895642380124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/951817895642380124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/951817895642380124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/10/twenty-five.html' title=''/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-2968186822337039888</id><published>2009-10-20T13:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T13:32:32.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Procrastination station</title><content type='html'>A blog trend...jumping on the band wagon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Where is your cell phone? in my bag&lt;br /&gt;2. Your hair? Blonde&lt;br /&gt;3. Your mother? far away&lt;br /&gt;4. Your father? amazing&lt;br /&gt;5. Your favorite food? ice cream&lt;br /&gt;6. Your dream last night? didn't&lt;br /&gt;7. Your favorite drink? Chardonnay&lt;br /&gt;8. Your dream/goal? to run a school district&lt;br /&gt;9. What room are you in? my classroom&lt;br /&gt;10. Your hobby? reading&lt;br /&gt;11. Your fear? failing&lt;br /&gt;12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? umm...plead the fifth&lt;br /&gt;13. Where were you last night? Home&lt;br /&gt;14. Something that you aren’t? caught up on work&lt;br /&gt;15. Muffins? Blueberry&lt;br /&gt;16. Wish list item? Ralph Lauren&lt;br /&gt;17. Where did you grow up? Michigan&lt;br /&gt;18. Last thing you did? graded papers&lt;br /&gt;19. What are you wearing? cheerleading practice clothes&lt;br /&gt;20. Your TV? Grey's Anatomy&lt;br /&gt;21. Your pets? I wish...PUPPIES!&lt;br /&gt;22. Friends? too far away but the best in the world&lt;br /&gt;23. Your life? constant challenge and completely fufilling&lt;br /&gt;24. Your mood? overworked&lt;br /&gt;25. Missing someone? the boy&lt;br /&gt;26. Vehicle? I want a black bmw&lt;br /&gt;27. Something you’re not wearing? hair tie&lt;br /&gt;28. Your favorite store? The Limited&lt;br /&gt;29. Your favorite color? Pink&lt;br /&gt;30. When was the last time you laughed? when the bird came out of the cieling in my clasroom and the boys dove under their desks&lt;br /&gt;31. Last time you cried? two Sundays ago...knock on wood&lt;br /&gt;32. Your best friend? Erin&lt;br /&gt;33. One place that I go to over and over? Borders&lt;br /&gt;34. One person who emails me regularly? my old roommates&lt;br /&gt;35. Favorite place to eat? anywhere I'm not cooking or cleaning&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-2968186822337039888?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/2968186822337039888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=2968186822337039888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/2968186822337039888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/2968186822337039888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/10/procrastination-station.html' title='Procrastination station'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-5009741572781180777</id><published>2009-10-19T16:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T17:17:48.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On adult life...</title><content type='html'>I watch a lot of Grey's Anatomy...like if it's on...I will watch it.  It was always the light at the end of the tunnel in college.  Inorganic, organic, and physics exams were always on Tuesday nights.  Thursday nights were always a bottle of white wine with the girlfriends that signified the end of the week.  This habitual comfort has carried on...unfortunately, minus the white wine and girlfriends.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways...I was in a funk most of the day.  Pretty much until five minutes ago (read 8pm).  I think its because life has a ton of distinctions and then you are dumped into adulthood and you can't figure out up from down.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wake up some mornings...lay there for a second and think "is this my life...when did I grow up?!"  If I lay there too long I actually feel my heart beat quicken and my blood pressure spike.  An alarm goes off on my phone (a phone I pay for), then I step out of my bed (that I own), and walk out into the living room (of my own apartment I live in alone).  I get ready by showering and putting in my contacts and brushing my teeth (which my continued health now shows that I manage Dr. appointments).  Then I go to my car (that I own and insure) and drive to my full-time job (for which I get things like benefits and am responsible for the growth and education of over 100 students).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time I feel like life was well-paced and I had some grasp was in high school.  Then I blinked and woke up here.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now there aren't any distincitions.  Before eight-teen there is infant, toddler, pre-kindergarten, kindergarten, elementary school, middle school, high school.  That is seven distinct stages all before eighteen.  Then there is adulthood...what is in adulthood?  Nothing.  adulthood then retirement.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm young, single, and childless.  I have amazing independence, ample time, and I think I have found the right career field.  I should feel unrestricted, adventurous, and limitless.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I just feel confused.  Standing in the middle of a giant field and you can't see anything but field.  There are infinite directions I could walk in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There aren't any measures anymore.  No grades.  No semesters.  One year rolls into the next.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you tell if you're doing life well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know life is about being a disciple of Jesus, but what do the details look like.  I could live a hundred versions of my life doing that, but what does everything else look like?    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does this relate to Grey's Anatomy?  They are adults...highly successful professionally.  But...they cry all the time.  I think every character on there has done something insane and cried ten times.  I know its just a show, but this makes me feel so much better about crying and doing insane things and wondering if this is what life is supposed to look like.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-5009741572781180777?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/5009741572781180777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=5009741572781180777' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/5009741572781180777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/5009741572781180777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/10/on-adult-life.html' title='On adult life...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-6710218471161429979</id><published>2009-10-19T15:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T15:15:52.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Recent gifts</title><content type='html'>fourteen.&lt;br /&gt;sweatpants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fifteen.&lt;br /&gt;Cuddling on a couch watching a movie with an old friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sixteen.&lt;br /&gt;white wine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seventeen.&lt;br /&gt;dinner out with a bunch of girls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eighteen.&lt;br /&gt;cooking your mom's chili recipe and feeling warm inside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nineteen.&lt;br /&gt;fall colors with the sun setting on them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;twenty.&lt;br /&gt;unexpected mail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;twenty-one. &lt;br /&gt;diet pop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;twenty-two.&lt;br /&gt;three day weekends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;twenty-three.&lt;br /&gt;warm-baked goods&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;twenty-four.&lt;br /&gt;hugs...the most underrated form of affection ever&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-6710218471161429979?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/6710218471161429979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=6710218471161429979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/6710218471161429979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/6710218471161429979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/10/recent-gifts.html' title='Recent gifts'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-2878364054039292212</id><published>2009-10-14T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T17:50:31.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ten.&lt;br /&gt;afternoon naps while it's raining outside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eleven.&lt;br /&gt;unexpected out-of-control bouts of laughter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;twelve.&lt;br /&gt;the anticipation of waiting to visit people you miss dearly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thirteen.&lt;br /&gt;seeing pictures that make you excited for all life has to offer (the last one is my little sister...so precious):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/StZxYwQLkMI/AAAAAAAAAH0/lq3Gn0dFVEE/s1600-h/Family.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/StZxYwQLkMI/AAAAAAAAAH0/lq3Gn0dFVEE/s320/Family.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392622273906315458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/StZvN7Up63I/AAAAAAAAAHc/1kXo4MDtA9M/s1600-h/bernese-mountain-puppy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/StZvN7Up63I/AAAAAAAAAHc/1kXo4MDtA9M/s320/bernese-mountain-puppy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392619888876055410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/StZv-J1KoJI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mHPRAqlfhIg/s1600-h/DSCN1089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/StZv-J1KoJI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mHPRAqlfhIg/s320/DSCN1089.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392620717404233874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-2878364054039292212?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/2878364054039292212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=2878364054039292212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/2878364054039292212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/2878364054039292212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/10/ten.html' title=''/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/StZxYwQLkMI/AAAAAAAAAH0/lq3Gn0dFVEE/s72-c/Family.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-2281962079097671296</id><published>2009-10-13T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T15:29:44.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today's gifts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/StT_T0JI3CI/AAAAAAAAAHE/fMJ2nM-xuog/s1600-h/OneThousandGifts.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 114px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/StT_T0JI3CI/AAAAAAAAAHE/fMJ2nM-xuog/s320/OneThousandGifts.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392215369748896802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;five. &lt;br /&gt;Excessive amounts of Grey's Anatomy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;six. &lt;br /&gt;The comfort of warm coffee with french vanilla cream in the morning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seven.&lt;br /&gt;slipping into your favorite jeans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eight.&lt;br /&gt;barefeet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nine.&lt;br /&gt;moments of silence&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-2281962079097671296?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/2281962079097671296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=2281962079097671296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/2281962079097671296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/2281962079097671296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/10/todays-gifts.html' title='Today&apos;s gifts'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/StT_T0JI3CI/AAAAAAAAAHE/fMJ2nM-xuog/s72-c/OneThousandGifts.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-5348620878471124444</id><published>2009-10-12T13:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T13:58:59.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Thousand Gifts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/StOVW3-HtPI/AAAAAAAAAG0/PV0JsOX65e4/s1600-h/OneThousandGifts.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 114px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/StOVW3-HtPI/AAAAAAAAAG0/PV0JsOX65e4/s320/OneThousandGifts.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391817399106778354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is no secret that this transition has been a little rough for me.  Namely, work has been extremely difficult and I have found myself in tears wrestling with my decision to work in DC and in an urban district.  There are so many hurdles for both myself, the school, and most unfortunately, the students.  I have found myself frequently lonely and frustrated and I fear that those emotions will settle into bitterness in my heart.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, in the midst of this wrestling I have felt as though I have given up, thrown in the towel, and resigned myself to survival.  However, I do not want my time here to be a survival...a mere day to day existence.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is my hope that this reflection of coming up with 1000 things for which to be grateful for I will reflect on my days for the good instead of the bad.  I stole this idea from a &lt;a href="http://meghanlou.blogspot.com/"&gt;woman I truly admire&lt;/a&gt; and she received it from another blogger.  I have changed the image to fit my own personality, but the idea is not my own...but it is one I think bears repeating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be done by the close of the school year I need to roughly 100 items a month or 25 a week.  That will be my goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one.&lt;br /&gt;The beauty of classical music played only by piano.  The entanglement of the complex and the simple has always been a marvel to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;two.  &lt;br /&gt;The view from my porch that overlooks the park with the slowly changing leaves.  A benefit of being further south then Michigan, but not in the south is that the transition to Fall is the perfect pace to enjoy the beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;three.&lt;br /&gt;Simple day by day life with friends.  I have a friend at school.  We are the same age, we have the same doubts, trials, and fears.  But sometimes we just talk about college football, having boyfriends far away, and whatever most recently sucked.  (p.s. she's even a Buckeye)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;four. &lt;br /&gt;Learning how to cook.  It opens up a whole new world while helping me feel connected to my Grandma...if there ever was an amazing woman she was it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-5348620878471124444?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/5348620878471124444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=5348620878471124444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/5348620878471124444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/5348620878471124444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/10/one-thousand-gifts.html' title='One Thousand Gifts'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/StOVW3-HtPI/AAAAAAAAAG0/PV0JsOX65e4/s72-c/OneThousandGifts.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-3678499847551009786</id><published>2009-10-05T15:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T15:09:08.377-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Answered prayer?</title><content type='html'>It is another week and I'm feeling ok about it!  Woot! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the classroom discipline thing has started to work a little bit.  I've moved onto screaming.  They claim you're not supposed to yell, but it is the only way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition, the girl who committed the assault has been transferred to another school because the fact that the family had moved was uncovered.  I don't quite know how I feel about it.  However, I do feel like I should warn her new teachers.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to do more planning so I can stay ahead.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get observed tomorrow...eek.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-3678499847551009786?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/3678499847551009786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=3678499847551009786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/3678499847551009786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/3678499847551009786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/10/answered-prayer.html' title='Answered prayer?'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-6210881487753473581</id><published>2009-10-02T20:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T20:31:34.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>Whew...week 6 is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quality of life review:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Getting called into the office for having too many D's on progress reports: (-5)&lt;br /&gt;2. Knowing that all of those D's are totally deserved (+2)&lt;br /&gt;3. Not crying during the meeting (+2)&lt;br /&gt;4. Crying in the closet of my room after (-3)&lt;br /&gt;5. Assault occurring in my classroom that I was powerless to stop (-10)&lt;br /&gt;Current total: -14&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week wasn't so bad.  It was only four days so it felt much more manageable and I didn't find myself nearly as worn out as I have been in past weeks.  Tuesday began with a surprise meeting with the principal, my department head, and my mentor.  It was pretty overwhelming.  I have 33% D's or E's in my four classes as of progress reports (I only gave two E's though).  Before I submitted the grades I went through all of them and felt ok because they all had at least 4 or 5 missing assignments and had failed at least 1 of the 3 quizzes we have taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, sitting between my mentor (a 6'5'' black man) and my department head (a 5'11'' black women) I felt like a small child being reprimanded.  It was odd how their physical size alone made me feel inadequate.  I also couldn't shake the feeling of being wildly out of place.  From time to time this feeling creeps in on me.  When I call a parent and they only speak Spanish or they explain that no one has graduated high school from their family.  I find myself retreating into a place in my head I haven't gone sense I was younger.  It is the same place I used to hide when people were mean to me in high school or the rare occasion I disappointed a teacher and they talked to me about it.  It was funny how quickly my self-confidence fretted away and I began to question everything about my current life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O...and I had about 10 feet between the office and the cafeteria where I had to pick up my very hard to manage 3rd hour (the largest hour at 30 students and the one in which the fight broke out).  That was a lesson in stuffing your emotions down and pushing through...ugh.  It was a rough night at home that evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the week went pretty smoothly.  Cheer tryouts were a success and I'm interested to see how coaching works out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now onto the Michigan v. Michigan State game tomorrow!  LET'S GO BLUE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-6210881487753473581?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/6210881487753473581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=6210881487753473581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/6210881487753473581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/6210881487753473581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/10/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-1790152142443396285</id><published>2009-09-12T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T21:35:48.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday night blues...</title><content type='html'>Ok...so it's only Sunday morning; however, the Sunday night blues are sneaking in early this week.  My confidence is still a bit shaken from "the Friday from hell" which is what the end of last week will be known as from now on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My answer was to settle in for the weekend with movies such as Stand and Deliver, Freedom Writers, and Dangerous Minds in hopes that I would become re-inspired, re-energized, and confident before I headed back on Monday.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It worked a little.  I've regained a sense of hope that next week could be better.  In addition we will be revisiting some classroom procedures.  I've also decided that they will no longer have time to work on homework in class and I'm going to be calling home like a maniac.  These kids are out of control and it needs to stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goals this week:&lt;br /&gt;1. Be in bed by 9pm every night this week&lt;br /&gt;2. Present rules, consequences, and rewards in class this week&lt;br /&gt;3. Hope that my next review will not state "loose classroom management that did not improve later in the day"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note...Michigan beat Notre Dame today!  Woot!  That made my weekend as well as spending quality time with an old college friend who helped to lift me out of my grading burden as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to live this year surviving day by day...but the more I google tips on first year teaching all I find are "survival tips" "stress reduction" and "work life balance" articles.  Almost everything talks about surviving the first year so that you don't quit the profession...at least I'm not alone in feeling a bit distressed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has to beg the question...what the hell is wrong with kids these days...or more accurately the adults that are failing to raise them properly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-1790152142443396285?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/1790152142443396285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=1790152142443396285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/1790152142443396285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/1790152142443396285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/09/sunday-night-blues.html' title='Sunday night blues...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-1142116467840135009</id><published>2009-09-10T14:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T14:13:25.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning...</title><content type='html'>I'm convinced during the first year of teaching the teacher is learning more then the students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third week of school is coming to a close and I think I'm finally learning how to manage things a bit better.  Today I would say 3 out of 4 classes went well...and I really question how accountable I can be held during my last hour.  I have no special education training so I just don't feel nearly as bad when lessons go a bit awry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I learned today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) The teacher who had her students stand in a straight line in a hall before letting them is not crazy.  She is a genius.  If I let my kids have two minutes to chill in the beginning of class my life is a nightmare.  We stand in a line now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) It is possible to ask your superior what to do about kid x and get the response "I'll call the parents to check on meds" three times in one day...how medicated is this generation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Conversations like this will happen: &lt;br /&gt;    Me:  "Are they always this loud?"&lt;br /&gt;    Other staff: "Yes"&lt;br /&gt;    Me: "Do they get more quiet as they mature?"&lt;br /&gt;    Other staff: "No, this is the hood.  You're not from the hood are you?  It's     loud."  hahahahahahahahahhahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s.  My new nickname by my female students "Ralph Lauren"...at least I know they look at me sometime during the hour.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-1142116467840135009?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/1142116467840135009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=1142116467840135009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/1142116467840135009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/1142116467840135009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/09/learning.html' title='Learning...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-8184089621754238282</id><published>2009-09-08T13:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T13:13:15.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Irritation of the day...</title><content type='html'>I understand that the U.S. does not have an official language.  However, there are a lot of rules that aren't actually written that American's follow...i.e. how far away you stand at the ATM, elevator behavior, and traffic habits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOWEVER...if I need to run to the bank and deposit a check it should not take me 30 minutes because all four people in front of me cannot speak English and need to play charades with the teller.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I don't care what you speak in your home or among your acquaintances, preserve your culture all you want, but you are interfering with my business with your lack of language skills in public settings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rant over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-8184089621754238282?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/8184089621754238282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=8184089621754238282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/8184089621754238282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/8184089621754238282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/09/irritation-of-day.html' title='Irritation of the day...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-6527225428793555444</id><published>2009-08-16T09:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T09:53:02.118-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A girl's got to eat...</title><content type='html'>I've come the realization that I have a severely limited repertoire of meals that I can cook.  My first week here I ate a lot of variations of eggs.  sick.  In light of that I am going to try and spend each Sunday creating a weekly dinner.  Hopefully, this will guide my grocery shopping as well and avoid the blank stare into the fridge that leads to another egg entree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The inaugural list: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday Aug. 16: Chicken and orzo with orange peppers and onions&lt;br /&gt;Monday Aug. 17: Spaghetti with marina sauce&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday Aug. 18: Leftover Jambalaya&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday Aug. 19: chicken fajitas&lt;br /&gt;Thursday Aug. 20: Linguini in pesto sauce with cherry tomatoes&lt;br /&gt;Friday Aug 21: going to the ball game microwave meal :0)&lt;br /&gt;Saturday Aug 22: Chef salad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to expanding my horizons!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-6527225428793555444?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/6527225428793555444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=6527225428793555444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/6527225428793555444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/6527225428793555444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/08/girls-got-to-eat.html' title='A girl&apos;s got to eat...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-7303357925693505231</id><published>2009-08-11T16:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T16:47:48.402-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The First day...</title><content type='html'>Today was my first official day of big girl work.  Woot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week is pretty chill...I have a 10 minute-ish commute to a science center and then we have new teacher professional development from 8 to 4.  A bit long...and it may be interesting when it comes to the curriculum.  I'm having a really hard time picturing if we even to get to lesson plan or create our own classes.  It seems as though things are really planned and scripted.  I'm sure there will be more to come on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side there seem to be plenty of people my age.  Including one girl who will be working in the same school as I am.  Hopefully we'll be able to have some fun times in the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the apartment...it still needs some work, but my Dad and Uncle were of AMAZING assistance.  They fixed things I didn't even know were broken..lol.  Not to mention fully equipping me with the basic but annoying to spend money on things like mops, dish racks, and shower curtains.  We had some good times eating out and drinking beer while eating pizza surrounded by boxes.  They may also have bribed the cable man so that I can watch television from my bedroom.  Which is a little bit hilarious.  Here are some pics of the new place: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/SoIBsIbD_QI/AAAAAAAAAGU/kt0Bte8bVAI/s1600-h/DSCN2860.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/SoIBsIbD_QI/AAAAAAAAAGU/kt0Bte8bVAI/s320/DSCN2860.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368855563465915650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A view from the porch:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/SoICIgiUfWI/AAAAAAAAAGc/KQ0fgkSVxx0/s1600-h/DSCN2855.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/SoICIgiUfWI/AAAAAAAAAGc/KQ0fgkSVxx0/s320/DSCN2855.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368856050975145314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kitchen &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/SoIC84T8j-I/AAAAAAAAAGs/MNlQVsRFxCE/s1600-h/DSCN2861.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/SoIC84T8j-I/AAAAAAAAAGs/MNlQVsRFxCE/s320/DSCN2861.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368856950710505442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I plan to adventure towards the pool and squeeze in a run.  Time to start owning this town, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-7303357925693505231?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/7303357925693505231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=7303357925693505231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/7303357925693505231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/7303357925693505231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-day.html' title='The First day...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rq1FHIxVJ4s/SoIBsIbD_QI/AAAAAAAAAGU/kt0Bte8bVAI/s72-c/DSCN2860.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-473861520485933418</id><published>2009-07-21T08:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T08:29:03.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CJessica%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A speaker at church mentioned Ozzy and Harriet as an example of American parents. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Upon noticing the blank stares coming from the audience and noting he had just "aged himself" he asked: "What would be a couple nowadays?".  Someone was quick to mention Jon and Kate.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet was a sitcom based on the real-life Nelson family which epitomized 1950's family life and the nuclear family.  The ideal family propagated by the media included a hard-working father of integrity who honored his wife and who helped guide his sons through the difficulty of adolescents.  While I understand that this is far more ideal then real-life I simply want to point out that the prominent picture of American family life shown in the media was actually what the Bible intended.  Love, leadership, and a commitment to integrity and doing the right thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jon and Kate we're married when they were in their mid-20's, college educated and financially stable.  However, if one were to watch the show (and trust me...I love this show...those kids are precious) they would see a nagging wife and a passive husband.  There was little teamwork witnessed between the couple.  Now after only about a decade of marriage they are getting a divorce.  There are now 8 children under 10 who live in a broken home.  Jon already has a new girlfriend (who is only 22 by the way) and a NYC apartment a state apart from his 8 children.  The divorce also came after months of speculation of both Jon and Kate's infidelity.  This was the couple that came to mind for what American family's are...sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there any hope for our generation?  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This weekend I got to stand in my best friend's wedding.  The man she is marrying (Seth) comes from a beautiful family.  The reason for this is so evidently their devotion to God and submission to the way God designed families.  The were constantly serving each other and it was so clear that Seth's father played an integral role in leading their family and did it through seeking God.  His mother and father were affectionate and it was clear that their children looked to them as a model of relationships.  Seeing this family and understanding why they were the way there were gave me hope for our generation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That hope comes from Christ.  Yes, American families are broken mainly because people are broken.  If we turn to Christ to cover this brokenness and seek His will in our life I think marriages and families still have a place in this world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone asked once asked me "Why would you want to wake up next to the same person everyday for the rest of your life?"  They thought the idea of marriage was trapping and limiting.  I beg to differ.  I found this writing in my journal...and I have no idea where it came from...I think it was a random forward sometime but I think this sums it up:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Why?  Because when you say I do it’s a vow that means forever.  Because marriage is honored by God, created by God, and is a beautiful union between two people that love each other with genuine love.  Why would I want to wake up to that person every day?  Because I wouldn't be able to live without his smile.  Because I don't think I could go on without his encouragement.  Because his character makes me sit back in awe.  Because I would forget how to laugh without his humor.  Because his patience is as deep and wide as the sea.  Because when I'm in the room I'm the only one he is looking at.  Because he loves to grow in knowledge and wisdom.  Because he loves children and they love him.  Because he has a superman complex and wants to save the world.  Because he is a servant of others and shares the love of Christ.  Because his eyes say more then his mouth.  Because his laugh is the best sound in the world.  I could go on but I'll end with this--because love lasts forever.  So as long as I am living, that would be why I want to wake up to him everyday for the rest of my life till the day I die.  Because as the Bible says "Now abides these three: faith, hope, and love.  But the greatest of these is love"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that is a picture of what it's meant to be...nothing about looks, money, sex, or similar hobbies.  All about character, God, and love.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I pray my generation would be full of people willing to step up and live a life devoted to God that gives hope to the idea of family.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-473861520485933418?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/473861520485933418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=473861520485933418' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/473861520485933418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/473861520485933418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/07/family.html' title='Family'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-4756464634578188746</id><published>2009-07-11T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T16:59:04.829-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Post-MAC life...</title><content type='html'>I'm on summer vacation!  For the first time since summer 2007...and that was no summer of relaxation.  Its been 1 month since I've been enjoying this miracle cultivated by no-longer active farm schedules...but I'm still so grateful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you do with yourself after a year of 20 hour days?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Sleep.  I'm averaging at least nine hours a night...sometimes 11.  I was averaging 5 to 6.  It is amazing to me the cognitive abilities and emotional stability that has returned to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Clean.  Before summer it was actually safer to put shoes ON when entering my apartment.  The floor was that disgusting.  Now the dishes are done, you can see flat surfaces, and the carpet no longer initiates my gag reflex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Cook.  I forgot that you can be creative and have fun in the kitchen.  Food for the past year has been lean cuisine and whatever I can shove in my mouth fast enough to make it to class on time.  I've rediscovered meat and fresh vegetables.  Mmmmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Play.  Soccer has re-entered my life as well as the Tour de France, ESPN, and whatever various sports possibilities pop up.  I've actually run 4 out of 7 times this week.  My mind and body are both happy...so are my pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Nothing.  No, I haven't run out of a topic for number 5.  I have, however, been able to enjoy moments in which I have nothing I need to do...no grading, no papers, no chores.  I have seen sunsets, had wine with friends, and been at the lake with my family.  None of these things has increased my productivity, but all of them have recovered my sanity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;t-minus 27 days until I depart for the real-world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-4756464634578188746?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/4756464634578188746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=4756464634578188746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/4756464634578188746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/4756464634578188746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/07/post-mac-life.html' title='Post-MAC life...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-1701603489155273474</id><published>2009-07-06T15:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T15:33:20.214-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving Madness...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"&gt;I've come to the conclusion that it is really tricky to figure out how to move across state lines.  Here are some things that I am certain will pop up in a blog entry in a few months...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"&gt;1.  Is it a good idea to sign a lease for an apartment you have never seen?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Maybe it will turn out to be really convenient...maybe it will turn out to be terrible.  Based on my current apartment I have a good shot at this being really convenient.  I really only have a fear of bugs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"&gt;2.  How directionally challenged am I?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"&gt;Let's hope I can get around for awhile.  There will be a few major disasters.  I will be documenting them here...so get ready.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"&gt;3. How much can one person hate/loath/dread/avoid at all costs looking like an idiot?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"&gt;There are going to be A LOT of those moments as I try to figure out living alone.  Hopefully there won't be more then one per day and the men in my life are prepared for a barrage of phone calls relating to plugs, fuses, bugs, broken sinks, and how to set up TV and cable.  Let's hope the car holds out for at least sixth months before I need to address those problems...I have no clue what goes on under that hood.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"&gt;4. How does independence work?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"&gt;I really like my space and I really like being able to control everything about my personal living space.  I'm ecstatic for an adventure and WAY over living in college (read: crappy) apartments.  However, I also really like my friends and the boy is amazing...the excitement reading over leaving them is so far in the negative its about to hit the other side.  Character growth, right?  I'll be honest though...I have no fear when it comes to conquering cranky utility and bill people who will inevitably mess something up.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"&gt;5. Do I have a grown up job?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"&gt;O yea...the whole point of this is that I'm working.  I'm sure that will be ridiculous...I can't even imagine what that is going to be like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be an interesting year.  My goal is to blog at least a little bit everyday.  Wildness like this needs to be documented!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-1701603489155273474?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/1701603489155273474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=1701603489155273474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/1701603489155273474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/1701603489155273474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/07/moving-madness.html' title='Moving Madness...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-8527446058613424255</id><published>2009-05-14T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T14:28:12.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Priorities...</title><content type='html'>I usually dislike the forwards...but this is a pretty good one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mayonnaise Jar &amp;amp; Two Beers...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and the 2 Beers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;He then asked the students if the jar was full.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;They agreed that it was...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;He then asked the students again if the jar was full.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;They agreed it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Of course, the sand filled up everything else.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;He asked once more if the jar was full.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The students responded with a unanimous 'yes.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The professor then produced two Beers=2 from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The students laughed..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Now,' said the professor as the laughter subsided, 'I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The golf balls are the important things---your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favorite passions---and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sand is everything else---the small stuff.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;'If you put the sand into the jar first,' he continued, 'there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The same goes for life.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for= the things that are important to you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Spend time with your children.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Spend time with your parents.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Visit with grandparents.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Take time to get medical checkups.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Take your spouse out to dinner.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Play another 18 holes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Take care of the golf balls first---the things that really matter.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Set your priorities.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The rest is just sand.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the Beer represented.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The professor smiled and said, 'I'm glad you asked.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Beer just shows you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of Beers with a friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-8527446058613424255?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/8527446058613424255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=8527446058613424255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/8527446058613424255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/8527446058613424255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/05/priorities.html' title='Priorities...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-8235921914580924598</id><published>2009-05-13T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T10:06:49.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A simple math equation...</title><content type='html'>bathing suit shopping + graduate school = Special K diet begins on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have recruited a teammate and our theory is that if we being our diet with the special K diet any diet we go on after those two weeks will seem abundant with choices.  I'll keep you updated :0)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-8235921914580924598?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/8235921914580924598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=8235921914580924598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/8235921914580924598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/8235921914580924598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/05/simple-math-equation.html' title='A simple math equation...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-3068774816062134965</id><published>2009-05-08T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T16:33:04.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mmmm...weekends</title><content type='html'>Woohoo!  I love Friday nights because there is so much promise for rest, freedom, and randomness.  The week is so busy...and it has been such a rigid schedule for the last year.  Weekends are the saving grace that breaks the monotony. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week was interesting.  Student teaching has gotten to be a bit of a chore.  Knowing that all of the other student-teachers are done for the year, but that we have six weeks to continue...ugh.  Also, it was prom week so the kids were a bit wild and loved to include statements such as "Are you really going to make us work today?"  Yes, I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They also had some amazing comments this week...the swine flu scare, impending pig dissection project, and the human body lessons have given them ample material.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few highlights:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Doesn't ham come from hams?&lt;br /&gt;2. Wait...girls have two holes?&lt;br /&gt;3. What is a sphincter?&lt;br /&gt;4. Cheese grows on trees.&lt;br /&gt;5. Kidney stones can't hurt girls as much. They have babies.&lt;br /&gt;6. Food must travel through the liver.&lt;br /&gt;7. I'm not dissecting a pig.  I can't get swine flu.&lt;br /&gt;8. Large football player "you have to dissect it...I'll puke".  Tiny blond girl "wuss."&lt;br /&gt;9. You can get AIDS from lice&lt;br /&gt;10. If you mix two different blood types together wouldn't the HIV cancel out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea...a bit frightening.  Now off to enjoy the weekend so I'm ready for another week of destroying crazy urban legends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-3068774816062134965?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/3068774816062134965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=3068774816062134965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/3068774816062134965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/3068774816062134965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/05/mmmmweekends.html' title='Mmmm...weekends'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-3200075957760080604</id><published>2009-04-30T06:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T07:03:47.281-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif'/><title type='text'>Just jump...</title><content type='html'>I haven't reviewed my former posts so I'm not sure if I have outed myself yet as a Christian.  This entry will do that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a sermon a while back at my church relating to listening to what God is calling you to do and having the gusto to go and do it.  There were plenty of examples listed and they were quite various...such as the courage to forgive the man in traffic who just tried to end your life with his merging or packing up and moving to a foreign country to serve the poor.  Needless to say...it was quite a spread. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate sermon's like that.  It's because as soon as they start you know something is going to land in your lap that you have to address and more often then not its going to be a challenge.  Either something hard to do or just something you plain don't want to do.  I'm sure there are a million examples in my life in which it is easy...but I have selective memory and only recall the things that sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For  me that was deciding where I was going to be next year.  Now I have been aware of this decision since last June.  I've had a year to think about it.  Have I?  Heck yes...every freaking day.  This hasn't been an issue of procrastination.  This has been an issue of issues. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have some really big dreams...only I can't rank them...I want all of them.  I am going to be a teacher then I will be a principal.  Ideally, I'll end up superintendent of a school district, but that rolls onto the other stuff.  That comes after I'm married and my 3 kids are securely placed in college and my puppy has become old and lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An old nurse's advice to me was "think of where you want to be in 20, 15, 10 and 5 years and then make your current decisions according to how you're going to get there.  However, when you are 22 how do you head towards married with kids and career at the same time?  I don't know...you can't know that.  Where do I jump then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I did that crazy thing that most Christians do and asked God to show me where to go.  If you've done that before you probably know that old saying "be careful what you ask for".  Understatement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a job in Maryland...exactly where I wanted to be...at the second table I visited at the job fair.  Then...I found out it was 10 minutes from where my friend is moving too.  Then they were going to pay for me to relocate and give me a computer.  Teachers don't get that stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm kind of waiting for the blinking road sign to show up on my doorstep at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now dear readers you are all wondering why this could even be a hard decision to make.  Remember the old nurse and the think about your life later thing?  Yea...problem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ten years involves married, maybe the first kid, dog, and job.  In Michigan, with a cute house and big kitchen because I'm obsessed with having people over for any conceivable event I can think of.  Not to mention my entire family and the lovely cottage up north that plays host to a good portion of my favorite memories. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That my friend...makes it hard to jump.  Because at 22 its all about me and adventures.  At 30 I won't feel that way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you can understand the "this was an issue of issues" thing.  I struggle with the idea that God wants to take care of me.  I know that He has a specific role for me in His kingdom, but I have this view that I am meant to be His worker and that the role I have probably won't include me getting the things I want.  Namely, I have never really thought I'd get the whole marriage, family, and dog thing described above. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...as I make/made this decision the thought process was "here is this great job because I have given you this passion to serve in disadvantage schools, but I need you to lay down your whole marriage/family/dog dream on the altar"  So if you are familiar with the Abraham &amp;amp; Isaac  story that reference makes sense...if not...go read it...&lt;a href="http://www.rationalchristianity.net/abe_isaac.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.  Now...if I didn't have issues with thinking God wanted to take care of me...this wouldn't be such a big deal.   I may even think God would give me the Abraham route and not take what I put on the alter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, such is life and I can't seem to wrap my head around the idea that God is the one who gave me these desires in the first place and that He loves me.  That combination should lead one to trust that God knows what I need and that if I followed Him everything would be fine.  As if that was an easy thing to do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is the game plan.  I'm going to take the job.  I'm going to jump.  It's terrifying.  I made this decision last night.  I woke up every hour last night.  Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the thing though.  This &lt;a href="http://bible.cc/philippians/4-7.htm"&gt;verse&lt;/a&gt; is more true right now then at any other time.  Which is pretty sweet.  So here I am...about to graduate and I have a job lined up...a sweet job.  I should feel secure and accomplished.  Instead I feel humbled and so utterly reliant on God taking care of me that the loss of control is completely overwhelming.  It's the most beautiful awful thing ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;werd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be an interesting landing...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-3200075957760080604?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/3200075957760080604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=3200075957760080604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/3200075957760080604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/3200075957760080604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/04/just-jump.html' title='Just jump...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-8023800931154473033</id><published>2009-04-12T21:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T21:30:51.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Born into Brothels</title><content type='html'>Wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got done watching this documentary: http://www.kids-with-cameras.org/bornintobrothels/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm speechless, maybe dumbstruck, or maybe I'm awestruck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm speechless at the conditions these children exist in.  The physical conditions, what they must have been seeing from their earliest ages in those brothels, how they see their mothers being treated, or their fathers acting.  To see ten-year olds recount their parents deplorable behavior and end their sentence with...but I know I must love them anyways.  To see their hearts on full display is beautiful and heartbreaking in the same instance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dumbstruck is my view of the woman in the film.  She is devoting herself entirely to these children without any guarantee of success.   I can't help but wonder how she got to this point, what motivates her, and what provides her this endurance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Combine the two together and I'm awestruck.  I know that I should never underestiate the resiliance of the human spirit, but these children have odds so frightening I can't believe they can continue to get up each day let alone have the advernturaous bold spirits that they do.  At one point in the film they must all be tested for HIV and the feeling of fear that the woman possess for them brings the viewer starkingly close to the reality of these children's existence.  They live in a brothel...they've always lived in a brothel...sometimes for generations of their family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is something about being ripped from your reality into the reality of our world that is hard to describe.  I say ripped because I've been so caught in my own life that I have developed a warped reality.  I've been consumed by the anxiety and stress of finding a job and graduating from college.  I've failed to see the amazing opportunities that await me and the blessing that education has been.  At one point in the film one of the children's mothers is burnt to death by her pimp.  The son later states "there is no hope in my future".  I don't know which is more frightening...the fact that he actually knows what that statement means or that he feels that way at such a young age. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was an unbelievably powerful film and I highly recommend it to anyone who is interested.   I really can't describe it right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-8023800931154473033?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/8023800931154473033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=8023800931154473033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/8023800931154473033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/8023800931154473033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/04/born-into-brothels.html' title='Born into Brothels'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-8073093434948868015</id><published>2009-02-16T09:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T09:18:57.609-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whew...</title><content type='html'>It's mid-winter break where I student teach.  My only response is thank goodness.  I was dying...seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, so I had settled into a cry every other Friday schedule which I was not ok with.  The first time it happened was after I had discovered all of these terrible things about my student's home lives.  It literally broke my heart.  When I was grading their papers that night at my apartment I came across one of them who has it particularly awful.  This student had wrote about how I was awesome on the bottom of their paper...and I just started crying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the frustration I was feeling was from my inability to do anything.  I feel overwhelmed with the amount of time, effort, and energy it is taking to plan lessons, teach them, and keep up with the record keeping.  Also, the amount of work I have for my grad classes is piled in there too and keeps growing as the professors find new ways to "help" us learn.  Really, that just means more meaningless, monotonous, yet time consuming papers to write or videos to edit/upload.  So...once you pile this workload together with my lack of sleep and the fact that my heart is more excited to care for and teach my students then do this stupid work...I'm in tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to be a teacher because education is the great equalizer of our world.  In America, if you are smart enough and work hard enough you will achieve success regardless of where you come from.  However, someone has to help you and give you the chance to catch up.  Also, students spend soooo much time at school.  That is an amazing window of opportunity for a teacher to show kids who have been rejected and hurt by their lives that they are loved and worthy of being cared for.  That being said the fact that my time is consumed by pointless grad work and sitting through ridiculous classes on education theory frustrates me to no end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kind of "i'm cussing on my way out the door so annoyed I don't want to talk to anyone" kind of frustration. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yea...when I feel like I'm not doing enough and my kids average an F on their next test...that leads to the second time I start crying.  I had felt as though I hadn't put enough effort in or done enough and then they failed...it felt entirely on my shoulders.  When you feel that...but also feel that you are already maxed out on time and effort...you feel a bit desperate.  At least I did.  Thank goodness that didn't come till this week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had a four day weekend to recover and an amazing weekend it was.  I prefer to tell people who have made it amazing to their faces...so I'll skip doing that here.  However, a church retreat in Ohio was exact that...a retreat.  I forgot my computer at school (not on purpose, but glad about it nonetheless) and I was in the middle of nowwhere Ohio.  The stress and busyness of Ann Arbor was long gone and I got to slow down and re-prioritize my life.  I retreated, I ran away, but to the best place ever...the woods and God.  If you know me at all you know that if you can't find me or things need to be figured out I'm going to be at a beach watching waves or sitting in the woods...ask my friends...I do it everytime.  My Dad has actually told me to go sit at the beach when I've needed to recover from some of the knocks life has thrown me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm ready to go at it again.  I have half of February and all of March before the next break.  It's going to be a long haul, but I hope to remember that its not how much I'm doing but that I'm trying to do something at all.  It'll be good...it may feel like failure...but its gonna be good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-8073093434948868015?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/8073093434948868015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=8073093434948868015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/8073093434948868015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/8073093434948868015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2009/02/whew.html' title='Whew...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-3701596161392532896</id><published>2008-11-12T09:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T09:47:08.857-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Interesting...</title><content type='html'>With the election of Barack Obama to the Whitehouse many in the education world have lept with curiosity into where the first girls will attend school once they move to DC.  The most recent article sprouts up after Michelle Obama toured private schools in the area, but has yet to appear interested in any D.C. public schools.  Without question there is a lot of debate about Chancellor Rhee and her strategies.  One article today in the Washington Post caught my attention.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://voices.washingtonpost.com/rawfisher/2008/11/dc_school_reform_the_backlash.html"&gt;D.C. School Reform: The Backlash&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The quote that caught my attention states: "But new questions are being asked about whether Rhee's reforms--closing underpopulated schools, fixing up decrepit buildings, sweeping out underperforming principals, and hiring legions of energetic, if inexperienced young teachers--are really making a difference in the classroom." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're right--closing underpopulated schools could be a risk.  The district may stop wasting money on old buildings that are not being used and the could provide more money for things like textbooks and technology advances.  What was Rhee thinking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fixing decrepit buildings?!  The children of DC are expected to behave and pay attention in class.  They don't need buildings that have adequate heat, ventilation, or ceilings.  I mean...you are most likely are paid to work everyday and you would never expect those things...would you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why would she ever consider getting rid of underperforming principals?  I mean everyone knows that the success of a school is irrelevant to the leadership there, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just find it interesting that that public demands that schools provide a place for students to be safe, warm, taught social skills, develop as future citizens, and learn a wealth of knowledge, oh...and pass assessment tests.  However, when someone tries to provide these things she is attacked for being a "bull in a China closet".  Why should this process be slow and gentle?  Don't the kids who are in school right now need these reforms?  I don't see how any children are at risk or "experimented" on by being place in more adequate buildings and given certified teachers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-3701596161392532896?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/3701596161392532896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=3701596161392532896' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/3701596161392532896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/3701596161392532896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2008/11/interesting.html' title='Interesting...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-6016700031425817861</id><published>2008-10-29T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T12:53:21.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>According to our grade scale...we are failing...</title><content type='html'>I received an email today from the administration where I am a student-teacher.  It reads "60% of true freshman received all passing grades on their report card. 40% received at least 1 E." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to the grade scale in my class...a 60% is not a passing grade...our school is failing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is truly disheartening.  Only 60% of freshmen passed each of their classes during the first marking period of their high school career.  I can't help but wonder what the teachers of the freshmen class are thinking when they receive this kind of news.  I would think it would be very disappointing/frustrating.  Clearly, the grades these students received are a product of their past educational experiences and I wonder if this data will be provided to the junior high and elementary schools that serve our district. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first comment I want to make about this data is that it further calls into question the use of tests as measures of school success and teacher ability.  How can our high school as a whole and teachers be held accountable for their students' test scores when the students they receive are failing immediately upon arriving in high school?  Clearly, these students are already behind the learning curve and their public education has already failed them.  The easiest way I can make a mental picture of this is using an assembly line analogy.  It seems as though much of the legislation right now is punishing the guy at the end of the assembly line for a table not having all four legs when an employee up the line never put the first three on.  We need to find a way to form more cohesion and teamwork from kindergarten up to senior high.  We can't wait until high school to try and catch these kids up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I think as a next generation teacher I need to be ready to stand at the edge of a cliff.  In other words...I have to call for my job to be fire-able.  I don't think that the next generation of teachers can afford to cling to tenure.  Now don't get me wrong...I think that we need to stand together and have some protection, especially when it comes to the manner in which teachers are held accountable.  For example, I don't think tenure should be based on years of teaching or standardized test scores.  But I also think that those of  us who teach need to be confident in our abilities and accept a work enviroment in which we can be fired at any moment for poor performance.  For example, if you are a bad engineer you are fired, if you are a bad cook you're fired, why should bad teachers be unfire-able after tenure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, why can't teachers be evaluated in the manner of other work places?  For example, the administartion (or other individual, such as our field instructors for example) visits a classroom, watches the teacher, then submits a report about the performance.  I don't see how this is different from a sales person having their presentations evaluated or an engineer having their reports judged.  Of course, this means that a school district would have to provide training for those who would be evaluating teachers and evaluations would have to occur more then once a year, but the system would be much less arbitrary then test scores or passing grades.  How about categories such as timelyness in providing grade reports and attendence to parents and administration, where the kids engaged, do your lesson plans align with state standards, have you shown an ability to be innovative in your methods?.  Categories like this seem to get more at what teaching is about...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we judged on valid criterion instead of arbitrary test scores maybe we wouldn't have to worry about "old dinosaurs" and "dictators" being irremovable from classrooms because of tenure issues.  I'll put my head on the chopping block...if I'm a bad teacher I shouldn't be allowed in a classroom...but if I'm a good teacher I'll have the confidence and ability to pass these evaluations with flying colors (if they are structured correctly)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-6016700031425817861?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/6016700031425817861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=6016700031425817861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/6016700031425817861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/6016700031425817861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2008/10/according-to-our-grade-scalewe-are.html' title='According to our grade scale...we are failing...'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8690354497324642841.post-2335102465813106271</id><published>2008-10-24T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T13:29:57.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>iTeach is born!</title><content type='html'>Hello!&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;  I'm a new teacher, but I'm also a twenty-something in love with clothes.  I'm combining these two into a comprehensive blog with details of teaching philosophy, teaching technology, and sale items. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently, I'm student-teaching just outside of Detroit in Michigan.  I'm enrolled in a 1-year accelerated Master's program in which I'm getting my teacher certification and MA in Education at the same time.  It's a wild ride and I'll try to update this blog with the part that is all about career aspirations, job opportunities, and probably some college football news. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I blogging if I'm not a teacher yet?  Good question.  The thing is that student-teaching is quite the perspective on teaching.   I have wild-classroom management experiences, assignments that I hate involving taping my poor (they claim developing) teaching moments, and I have time to read things such as the NY Times, CNN, Newsweek, Time, and other teaching blogs.  Therefore, I have plenty of opinions, young energy, and ambition to share with the world.  So I blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The currently shopping focus: cell phone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The options on the table: the Blackberry, the soon to be Blackberry Storm, iPhone, or the free phone that comes with my plan...so practicality or fun?  I feel that my cell phone may be serving as my reward for finishing school :0)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until later...live life to the fullest!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8690354497324642841-2335102465813106271?l=iteachdiva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/feeds/2335102465813106271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8690354497324642841&amp;postID=2335102465813106271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/2335102465813106271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8690354497324642841/posts/default/2335102465813106271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iteachdiva.blogspot.com/2008/10/iteach-is-born.html' title='iTeach is born!'/><author><name>Ms. iTeach</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13987444040217511567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
