Happy New Year!?

Happy New Year!

You’re right, it isn’t even November yet so what am I doing mentioning the new year?

Well, I have to come clean- the past few months have been anything but suitable regarding the economy, the outlook of the American people, the approach of my job and the pressure permeating my soul that more often than not I could pay no heed to however, I haven’t been successful as of late in brushing aside the pessimism enveloping me.

As well, I’ve abandoned consistent activities that bring peace of mind: writing particularly on my blog, allowing negativity to overtake my thoughts and steal the joy I desperately seek in the minuscule.

More so, I’ve busied my days with insignificant tasks to avoid thinking and to distance the world and those in it, all the same it’s grown old and impersonal.

Therefore, I thought I’d instigate the ideology and optimism, the cheerfulness and hopefulness that one tends to grasp when the proverbial door closes as another one opens. In my mind, the tiny fuses are anointed as the fireworks burst; streamers spout as resolve to begin anew resonates within.

So on this day, October 15, I bid myself and YOU if appropriate a Happy New Year!

“The object of a new year is not that we should have a new year.

It is that we should have a new soul. “

By G.K. Chesterson

a letter to Hurricane Irene...

Dear Irene,


Geez Louise, someone or something must have really ticked you off for you to be acting as you are; thrashing about and whirling around causing panic, anxiety and disappointment to countless people. It’s not OUR fault you were scorned and left for another. It’s not OUR fault you are PMS’ing and it’s not OUR fault you experienced a bad day!

You know Hurricane Irene, I always heard you catch more flies-- or is it bees with honey? Anyway, you are more likely to get your way when you are nice and pleasant with others; certainly not by creating enormous waves that cause beach erosion to our lovely coastlines. And while we are discussing your outcomes, how about those anticipated downed tree and power lines that will most likely wreak havoc to numerous communities? Just as important Irene, the flooding that may occur as a result of your insidious winds and rains? Is that really what you want? If I were you, I may re-think my behavior at this point in time before it’s too late.

You DO have worthy and valid reasons to be angry--we humans don’t treat planet Earth very respectively. I do understand that because numerous times when I’m really pissed at the world, I desire a good old-fashioned explosive thunderstorm that projects and conveys my feelings of humanity by lashing out with fierceness and intensity. However, I must admit when I long for a tumultuous cloudburst, it doesn’t ruin property OR anyone’s vacation.

You see, that is what I am most furious with. Call me selfish but our vacation at the beach is a time when we get to eliminate worries and struggles of everyday life and just be…be with our family where the peaceful waves and vast beauty invites calm and serenity within. The ocean has a way of settling our insides and brings forth peace of mind to our psyches while encouraging full presence to our surroundings.

Irene, the infinite sands and sea incites refuge from the hustle and bustle of our daily routines and provokes inner harmony with our God and each other. So please understand, this is more than a vacation; it is sanctity.

So in closing Irene, I just felt a need to relay these thoughts to you. If you find it necessary to invoke such fury, please take it out east and release your troubles elsewhere.

Sincerely,

The Spaine family

Dismissed, but not Unscathed...

Thursday I returned to work as the judge instructed me.


The jury duty summons was tucked in my calendar as a daily reminder to call August 14th to see how my civic duty would materialize. Sure enough, Juror # 78 would need to report on Monday. Although uncertain of the specifics, I was confident and assured as I entered the jury room with 355 strangers. Orientation promptly began and the jury selection process was set in motion. I, along with approximately 70 unknown humans was corralled into a court room.

Upon taking my seat in the juror’s box, I eyed two sets of attorneys before my eyes settled upon a man with strawberry blonde military type haircut, black rimmed rectangular glasses wearing a blue short sleeved button down shirt. He sat attentive flanked by his legal representation while an elderly couple which I presumed to be his parents sat in the first row of the court gallery.

Behind the second set of attorneys was a young woman whom I now know to be the mother of the infant murdered. How she sat in his presence, I will never know.

The excitement of being able to actually hear a trial quickly dissipated when the Honorable Judge laid out the specifics of our case: a capital murder charge with childhood sexual abuse was being sought against Joshua Stepp. I’m certain my mouth visibly dropped to the floor as past memories settled into my body bringing anxiety in the form of nausea.

Because of the nature of the case, we would be individually questioned which gave rise to abrupt and rapid anger within manifesting itself in fitful sleepless nights, the inability to eat, and impatience of all those around me along my need to articulate this experience to everyone I encountered. There was no ‘normal’ as I endured the three days of torturous waiting for my face to face inquiry with the judge.

The 45 minute meeting happened early Wednesday afternoon as my views and beliefs of the death penalty were sprawled out before the people within the court room. I was asked of my ability to focus on the evidence of the case rather than what I may or may not have heard about this particular case that occurred in 2009. I was grilled on following the law given by the judge and not personal judgments as well as my ability to give up 4-6 weeks of my life. (ohhh, not certain of this one; my trip to the ocean in jeaopardy?)

I was sensing I may be anointed ‘juror’ as alternate #3 when the interrogations shifted to the childhood sexual abuse. His initial question: ‘Have you or anyone close to you been sexually abused?’ to which I could only reply with a nod of the head, then instructed to speak into the microphone.

I was quickly dismissed when the judge inquired about my ability to separate the facts of this case with my own personal experiences. Is that actually possible? I couldn’t give a definitive answer. In my heart of hearts I really didn’t know of my ability with this aspect.

I completed the necessary forms for check out and rapidly took cover in the sanctity of my automobile. Once there, I got on the internet and surfed the name: Joshua Stepp which brought up his case of accusations of sexually assaulting and murdering his ten month old step-daughter, Cheyenne. I repressed the urge to vomit yet couldn’t escape the horrendous facts throughout the drive to the safety and security of my own home.

Overjoyed and thankful, yet repulsed; this case continues to plague my existence. So as the judge directed, I may be continuing with my normal routine yet little Cheyenne Yarley is never far from my thoughts.

It Takes a Village...

Hallelujah! I have survived the first week and a half of school…each year I must remind myself how much I really don’t care for the first weeks of school and those compulsory endeavors that occur: lessons in the rules and expectations of my classroom, coaching of procedures and routines as well as the necessary assessments to formulate where to go from here for each child.


As you know, I teach children in grades 3-5 who have differentiated learning needs. Each grade is unique but third grade forever proves interesting since in our school they ‘finally’ get to ascend the stairs in our building and are at this time considered a part of ‘the big kids’.

I marvel at the change in attitude a few stairs can cause but it is quite the happening. This climb necessitates the foundation in building relationships with students who once belonged to a different resource room teacher. Although I am blessed that I along with my 4th and 5th graders can carry on- building and nurturing bonds already set in motion.

Early on we read a book titled; You are Perfect Little Bird by Shelley Joy which pointed out the uniqueness of each individual. We discussed the character and emphasized his exceptional traits which led into their assignment. The children were asked to draw a picture of them then write 3-4 sentences telling why they are special and unique.

I gave ample ‘think time’ and instructed the children to start. I played soft music in the background as ten minutes proceeded while one little boy continued to sit. I approached him to ask what he was thinking. He told me he wasn’t special. He told me he couldn’t think of a thing.

I noted I immediately saw a bright smile when he walked into the room. I pointed out his liveliness and spirit although a result of his ADHD and keened in on his helpfulness to hand out papers hoping I’d given him some ideas.

He continued to sit so I suggested he begin with the setting and perhaps an idea would pop into his head.

When class was over 20 minutes later, the bustle of dismissal with a few parting instructions I noticed this young boy had yet to begin on a picture of himself and that he quickly stuffed his paper into his folder. He lagged behind and as he walked out the door said, ‘Teacher, I really don’t have anything special about me.’

I felt melancholy as I gazed upon his slow walk back to his classroom wondering how a seven year old child could think of nothing that was special about his person, his being.

Did we as educators fail this child? Did his parents feel he was not up to snuff because of his special needs?

I vowed my goal would be for him to be able to complete the same assignment at the end of the year and staunchly tell me at least a handful of positive things about himself.  The situation also brought to mind that it really DOES take a village to raise a child.

Sometimes I don't like being a mom....

I know-it’s been a short time since I’ve posted; I’ve been on hiatus…sounds better than just being inundated with obligatory tasks related to beginning a new school year, doesn’t it?

I wasn’t even planning on posting today, however a happening will occur today for my child will most likely fracture his heart and this part of being a parent, I do not like! ...sometimes I don't like being a mom~

As a parent, how do you keep your child from being saddened by life’s experiences? I presume you can’t but however as a mother, I certainly want to wrap him in a bubble and protect him from all disappointments and hurts that will occur.

However, CONGRATULATIONS are in order for one of Nicholas’ most cherished individuals; Ms. Amy Betz. As Nicholas transitioned to middle school last year she was an intern who deeply touched the heart and life of my child. She is sweet, caring person who has that ability to touch the heart of a child (and adults) and make them feel as if the world is their stage.

Her kindness and insight gave Nicholas confidence to conquer the middle school world and navigate this unknown territory with self-belief and self-reliance; recognizing Ms. Betz would be there to catch him if he fell.

However, as all fine things eventually come to an end, so did her stint as intern. The last month of school Nicholas steered his own course and was pleased that Ms. Betz would return to his school in a different capacity, but not her area of expertise. Nicholas was thrilled and over-joyed; his buoyancy restored!

Fast forward to today—Ms. Betz was granted a position as Assistant Principal at our local high school; congratulations are in order as her dream has been granted! …in the same vein, my son will hear the heart-breaking news this day.

So my question this morning is this; as a parent, how do you keep your child sheltered from a world of disappointment? I already know the answer to this rhetoric question...I guess you don't~ but what I want to say is this...

Run my dear

From anything

That may not strengthen

...your precious budding wings

Run like hell my dear...

-Hafiz, The Gift

A Ghastly Experience...

Let me tell you right off, I am not a shopper!

If you don't believe me, go to this post I wrote regarding shopping: http://thinkingspot-tracy.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-hate-shopping.html  However, I won't bore you with those details again but want to inform you of a recent shopping experience of late; bathing suit shopping!

UGH!!! I'd rather walk across hot coals or sit in a hailstorm then go searching for a bathing suit OR bra shopping-which is why I wait until those contraptions are in threads before I actually say I'm in need of new ones.

Anyway, my first mistake was allowing my husband Scott to accompany me on this ghastly experience- I obviously was NOT in my right mind on that particular morning to allow him to walk through the racks with me locating the most skimpy pieces of cloth and instructing me to 'try it on!'

Really? I'd consider a nudist beach before I'd wear something of that nature...

AHHH,  I won't bore you with the details but did want to show some pictures of this excursion-YES! I have pictures...

So, tell me what you think?

Or what do you think of this selection?

This one was a contender as well~

and that's exactly what I said....

Happy Day to you...

Happy 'Free' Day...

Definition of FREEDOM

1: the quality or state of being free:

a : the absence of necessity, coercion, or constraint in choice or action

b : liberation from slavery or restraint or from the power of another

Ahhhh, Happy Independence Day!

July 4th conjures up images of lessons learned in Miss Cramer’s Social Studies class of America’s Independence from Great Britain. As Americans we are privileged to have multiple freedoms in our lives; freedom of choice, freedom of religion, freedom of speech and freedom of the press to name a few.


If you are a Citizen of the United States of America we are blessed to have our military fighting for our independence and if you are a believer, you are given freedom from your sins.


However, a recent exchange with a friend brought to mind a different type of freedom many individuals continue to lack in their daily existence- the freedom to be happy.


In fact, I have many friends who lack happiness as a result of being bogged down by chains of secrets, ‘old baggage’ that keeps them from encountering true contentment in their lives. They are in abusive relationships or harboring resentments toward individuals who has wronged them wrong in their past or embracing secrets that persist to burden, keeping them from total freedom in their lives.
Researchers say liberty equivocates to happiness so it is with this thought in mind that I ask-What chains continue to keep you from being free in your life? What freedoms are you still seeking?

"It's better to die fighting for freedom than to live life in chains."