You remember when you were a kid and you heard someone say something bad about an adult you loved and your throat burned with like, throw up but it was really tight? You kind of wanted to cry and yell at the same time. And then you didn’t know why…
Today I was denied all of my Texas certifications except for PK-3rd. And I am certified in three high need areas. You better believe I fought. No matter. I need to take four more tests and go back to school to have the same certifications. Experience or no…sorry!
I felt like this guy spit on the Alamo.
And there is no Bilingual Endorsement in my new home state. I am no longer certified ESL, Middle School, 4/5, Math, Science (I’m dying) or Bilingual.
You know why this is personal. Teaching is part of who I am. Science, ESL, bilingual, math…this is who I am as an educator. As a person. This is my calling. God gave me the gift of speaking Spanish. I picked it up just by listening and speaking. I have always known it was his hand that made me pass that stupid LPT anyway…there is no other way to explain it when I left crying and cussing in the middle of the dang thing! I tried for four weeks to cancel the results and could never get anyone in Austin. I seriously called them again when I got my results and passed because I thought my tape got mixed up. I guess since I cried and cussed in Spanish I was good?
I am supposed to be a Bilingual/ESL teacher. I went back to school when I was pregnant and working sixty hours. I gave up a high paying job…so I could be a Bilingual teacher. When I started, I was one of TWO in my district. I advocated, collaborated, learned, worked–all those things educators do–with my fellow bilingual educators. Even when in a monolingual classroom, my certification was part of me–I am a certified bilingual educator, a math and science intermediate teacher. I can help you with all of those hard questions and I can translate that conference for you…
And now I am in a new state with a different philosophy on bilingual education. One that I am pretty sure that I do not agree with. But the more that I research what the state believes and I am in the schools, the more that I see there’s more to wonder about. Especially coming from a state that values bilingual education and stresses culturally inclusive classrooms. There’s kind of a lot I question. The scope of this is bigger than me. It is even bigger than the kids that I come into contact within our district. Because from what I see this is not my district (which, by the way, is pretty darn good).
I worry that if were to go back into the classroom I wouldn’t be doing enough.
I believe at this time, even without my Bilingual/ESL certification (tear!) I can do something still very important. I already love my side-show role as a sub. Now instead of thinking about my classroom or school, the certification and mobility really kind of free me up to see things quite a bit bigger. Being in the classrooms of my fellow educators I see their hearts and dedication, and I also see the extra responsibilities they take on. Being an “outsider” in a school looking through the lens of a coach and a fellow teacher is invaluable. And being new to the state allows me to genuinely wonder and question.
What if I could take this knowledge and questioning and advocate for the kids, teachers, and parents? What if I could help SpEd families and ESL (sorry, ESOL!) families by using what I know or have researched to help them better understand services? What if I could make the jobs of teachers a little easier–more than just making copies for them after my sub job ends? On one hand I think, I am not qualified. But on the other I think, if not me–who? How else do you get qualified, really, that we as educators haven’t already done? There is some advocate training avaliable, I know…I got that scheduled. But, I mean, I think I could do it. I think I could help a lot.
If God had a plan when I passed that stupid test by cussing and crying before, I’m pretty sure he has one now. I already did the crying, so I guess I’ll get to the cussing and watch the miracles start happening! Nah…
Things have not been easy here, but I know we are here on purpose. Whatever comes I will be waiting. And, really, growing braver! I don’t know how that happened, but that has lately, too…weird. Especially for someone with social anxiety who hates any kind of confrontation. It’s hard to pull a rug out from under me because I am the rug everyone stands on, but hey! not lately! I am pretty proud of that…
Honestly, I can’t wait to see what he has next for me and my new certification.
(God…you know my heart…remember, I hate boogers, and I don’t tie shoes. We can talk about this later…)
This is an actual picture of my desk right now. Don’t be nosy and ask me why I have steak seasoning on my desk! Well, it is for my brother. It is there so I remember to mail it to him this week. So all of this pink writing, pencil, and even that typed up stuff…those are all lists. Even that steak seasoning is part of a list. Not even really to-do lists…just lists. Don’t try to zoom in and get in my biz!
I am sorry for the attitude today. I am trying to kick sugar, and I am pretty sure it is worse than the time I tried to stop drinking coffee. And failed.
Docs say “listing” is wonderful for those of us blessed ones to help manage anxiety! Let me bring some of that over in case (wink, wink) you don’t click.
…for the sake of self-knowledge, note if you…feel chaotic, scattered, unclear and out of control…it may be worth an occasional time-out to list. You might be more efficient in the long run. A slow, insidious path to excess reactivity can exacerbate anxiety. A list can take you back to feeling pro-active, grounded, calm and clear.
In other words, reacting all the time can make it worse. Get out of there, sit down, make a list. Be proactive, not reactive, just like my old boss would say to me. Of course with lots of colorful words in there, but I’m trying to keep this PG-13.
At the end of the day when everyone goes to bed, it is so awesome to write stuff on a piece of paper. And then I scribble it out and add the leftover tasks to the next day…or not… I have control of my mind for just a bit. I can organize my thoughts for just a bit. I know I can do things and follow through and not disappoint people I love because I am organized thanks to my LIST! or LISTS! as you just saw. Before I discovered the power of listing, I would jump to a new task, get off track and end up with more than I could handle. We know how that ends.
The anxiety-ridden mind is constantly thinking. This holds true for other mental illnesses as well (lookin’ at you first, ADHD…). When I start a day unguided, I feel that I am trying to win a sandcastle contest, but I have to build right where the sea is licking the sand. I try my absolute hardest to win but don’t get anywhere, so I just give up. Sorry, everyone, you are going to have to do this one without me, I am throwing in my shovel and bucket! That looks like me spending an hour on Buzzfeed looking at dumb crap or watching, you guessed it, Law and Order SVU.
Oh, but there is a sanctuary in a list. I wake up, and I have direction. Even if my direction for the day is only three or four steps. I start there. As my day progresses and things come up, I add them to my list somewhere. Or when I am really feeling like myself, I just slap things all over the paper (and really all. over. the. paper.)! Never waiting for the thought to pass, I record the thoughts as they happen. Then, I feel like they are safely tucked away in a safe little basket, and I can carry them about while my mind is free to move on to other things. No more worrying about disappointing someone. No more concerns over things I’ll forget. Everything is on there somewhere, and I will get there.
When we chosen ones worry about a situation, an area of need, or even a small task, we get sort of stuck in time, focusing on only this thing. This thinking often detaches us from whatever is going on around us at that moment. This, of course, magnifies the problem. To have a place for me to temporarily take something I am concerned about and put it aside so that I can focus on the now is huge. When hubs texts and asks me to call about changing our phone carrier, my social anxiety meter hits max. Instead of me flipping in front of some fourth graders, I write it down, and it is in the basket for later. I won’t forget, and no children will be traumatized (by this).
I have a list for tomorrow, 90 days, big ideas and big dreams (that one is really pretty), a calendar with lists for the rest of the year. Oh, and a pretty birthday list, too. I am pretty fancy now with my lists. With the exception of the birthday and calendar, all are in a plain spiral notebook, my utensil of choice.
Can you believe that on my list tomorrow is get rid of all of those lists? When I tell Hubs I have been working all day, I know he wants to ask what I have been doing.
Oh, just making lists. It’s alright to call me obsessed. I know the definition.
Besides, Carrie Barron, a real doctor writing for Psychology Today said, “Obsessional character is not always pathological. Well-channeled, it can lead to success as well as solace.”
Success and solace–on my list!
With the gingies in school now, I have been able to experience things I have not had the chance to experience before.
Daytime TV, the carline (not as annoying as I thought), empty grocery stores, snooping on my neighbors, and even getting fired! Well, kinda…
I found an internet job, which I thought would be a great way to make some extra money. Feeling I had to do something this summer, I applied.
Many people don’t understand this because I am extremely gifted at the art of conversation (hah!), but I am very introverted and only talk to those I feel comfortable around. So when I saw one where I didn’t have to talk to anyone, I jumped on it. The training was supposed to be two hours. It took me fifteen minutes, and I made a 98, not because I am smart, but because it was pretty dumb. When I say to you that anyone could do this job, I mean this. Ginny, my sweet little dorky lab, could watch me do it a couple of times, and she could do it herself (but I promised not to do that). It is pretty much the easiest thing. Look, click. Look, click. I was in no way going to be a millionaire, but I could make a little to pay off the credit card I ran up (I’m looking at you, Amazon!). This is a really good, established company, and they get paid for processing all this data, so they hire minions to do it. When you start working for them, they don’t tell you that you are in for the ride of your life with hope for a promotion or anything, so I mean, I knew what I was getting into. It was what I wanted…just setting the scene.
So before starting everyone signs this agreement saying you will not discuss this with others or people who are working with you and that you will not make groups to talk about the work you are doing, SO THE OTHER MORONS START A FACEBOOK GROUP ON WHAT THEY THINK IS A PRIVATE PAGE BUT IS RUN BY THE COMPANY! The company nicely sends an email, perhaps everyone didn’t read this in the agreement, blah, blah. Someone clips the email and puts it on the group page. And they all discuss.
I realized about then that my work environment was quite different than it was in the past. It wasn’t all of the “your doing fine” comments that I saw (cringe) or the “i didn’t see that in there website” (hmmm). It was the fact that clearly no one had clued in that the email was about them.
So the next day, we received an official way to communicate which was monitored. And everyone started talking about getting fired. Needless to say, this shut down all productivity for the day in my house as these forums were too much.
Did you get an email about not being on _______?
No! What is it?
OMG I DID TO! (quote)
Well, I didn’t 🙂
WHY OUR SOME OF US GETTING THIS AND SOME NOT!!!
Sometimes, _________ (person with a logical explanation)
This continued for a few days. All the while a few of us were not getting the email and still had work. There were too many people on the forum and the Facebook group for me to match them up, but…oh my gosh. The horror and surprise! Why? Why? Why our some of us getting this and others our not! Might have something to do with are Facebook group.
Eventually, I received the email saying I had been terminated because the project had ended but that they were seeking another project for me. All I was stuck on was that I was terminated. I’ve been working since I was sixteen and never been terminated!
So, I got fired! From a mindless 7.50 per hour look and click internet job! Oh, and I only worked a total of sixteen hours there.
I don’t think I’ll be putting that one on my stellar resume.
(This post is kinda mean. I am sorry, Mom.)
This is the stuff. Blogger Matthew Kinton from apparentlyitisgoodtoshare.wordpress.com guesting on jamesedgarskye.com
Well, today was my first full day alone as a stay-at-home mom, so I had plenty of time to talk to myself. Or talk to the dog, depending on how you see that. I hear that is actually a way to deal with anxiety, but I think they mean like positive self-talk, not how I was just talking. “Olivia is my hero…” “Wow, and it was him the whole time”. If we watch one more episode of Law and Order, Ginny could join the K-9 unit.
Anyway, all this alone time has me thinking about some stuff I have been reading lately on the topics of self-promotion and social media marketing. Since I have started this blog, I have made an online store for some teacher things and am beginning a YouTube channel for homeschooling parents. I have been doing quite a bit of research lately on all this new-fangled way of being an entrepreneur, a word I cannot spell on my own.
One of the most popular ways in the social media world to “get a lot of followers” or worse “get alot of followers” (I just cried a little) is to randomly follow people. The idea is they will follow you back, and you will all of the sudden have thousands of followers. You can see this in action if you ever read BuzzFeed (Oh my gersh! Dogs!) Good stuff, but I often wonder, “How did this random kid get 3,500 followers. Ginny is way cuter than his dog…” But it’s this method!
This “follow me and I’ll follow you” thing works just fine on Instagram or Facebook when you are marketing a product or on Twitter when you are trying to publicize an idea or direct traffic somewhere. Or any platform if you are under 25 and like to show everyone how you can sit in a canoe, or stand in a cave, or show the side of every mug of coffee you drink.
But I cannot do that to someone’s writing.
To me, it kinda hurts. It lessens the craft of writing, the difficulty of being honest, and the struggle of true reflection if all I do is follow to be followed. When I am reading your blog, I am reading your heart. I want to read what is on your mind, your original thoughts or your reflections on works by another, to see your art or hear your voice and your laughter in your writing. Or read your thinking on a current event and how it affects people you love or impacts what you care about. When I hear about what you are experiencing you open my eyes to a different world or maybe you and I are going through something together. It’s just so personal. When I follow you just to get a follow or click “like” without reading your work, it’s like I am texting while you try to look me in the eyes.
I don’t want anyone to follow me because they want me to follow them back. That big number might look good, but the connection is what I hope for. Lately, I have read some blogs that I have really connected with. I don’t read them every day…I don’t have time, but when I do and I spend time in the comments, it is meaningful. And when you stay at home and talk to yourself all day, you need to have adult connections and intelligent conversations, people you can learn from, ideas to discover. More than the ones from your dog and the TV.
I sometimes wonder (since one day I will need a job again) if I should be writing here with so much honesty. Then someone I haven’t heard from in a long time or another blogger thanks me for being authentic or genuine, and I know I am writing for the community, the followers, I need.
It’s ok to not have tons of followers or not to follow everyone. Just like in everything else, make your connections count.
This May, we decided to take our gingies from all of their friends, the family, the only home they have ever known, and move them here to Kansas City! Which, when you just read that, sounds really mean. But the hubs has been working so hard and landed a promotion, so it was a big deal for our family. There are lots of kids in our ‘hood and a party pretty much every night, so we have met lots of fun neighbors. Sometimes I wonder if any grownup here works.
So…school is starting. And our emotions are running high. As my boys grow up, I have begun to figure out which traits are mine, which they inherited from my husband, and which they picked up from YouTube or the garbage or something. I have noticed some new developments over the summer
My mom’s side of the family, we hide our crazy. Burying things can sometimes look like we are keeping our cool, which is perfect in many situations. I am pretty sure this comes from the fact that most of us are
bossy leaders, and in a crisis situation, we like to calm everyone else’s nerves. This kind of thinking doesn’t work for long, but luckily we are good talkers, too. Here is where I most identify as far as temperament goes. This is why hubs and I don’t argue…yen and yang, you know.
Then, there is the other side of the coin…and this must be what attracted my mom to my dad. On my Maines side…we wear those loud emotions like an American flag off the back of our 4×4 truck. It is very obvious what any Maines is thinking, and if not, we’ll tell you! You will get the honest truth, with or without the Bud talking.
And the Stringers–well, hubs is a redhead who played defensive end. You draw some conclusions. Both families have HUGE good emotions too. Just loud emotions all the way around. This heart on sleeve mentality pulled me in like a giant electromagnet at the junkyard to my hubs. I could have come up with a cleaner analogy, but you get it–strong attraction.
Since the Lord knows I love a challenge…my boys got the best of us both. The first few years of school when we had reports from school and psychologists attached letters to their names to tell us how to help them “be successful”, I knew the ones they really could be identified with… M-A-I-N-E-S and S-T-R-I-N-G-E-R.
So here comes the stress of the new year. And they really do have some stress–new schools, state, middle school for the oldest, no friends. Oh, and the oldest is twelve, so there’s that…he is really having a hard time. Dad took him to tour the school, and he didn’t want to get out of the car. Didn’t want to walk his classes. Didn’t want to talk about it afterward. For the first time, he said, “I wish we never moved here.”
At home, it’s been bad. Whining? check. Yelling? check. Fights? check. Smartypants talk? check. And you better believe that gets my emotions stirred up. I want to yell right back. I want to whine right back. And I sure don’t care about burying my crazy when I have to ask for the fifth time for someone to stop fighting. Or do the flipping dishes.
As the woman in this house of emotional boys (and man), I have found over the years that my job* is to keep things as steady and normal as possible when there are changes coming. I have to honor them and if I want them to understand the importance of their emotions, I have to keep mine in check. They are always valued. These two are a reflection of my family, my husband, and myself. If I do not value them when they are in this place, who will?
Who will show them it’s ok for a boy to hurt, to be scared?
I have to be the warm blanket that comes around to put the fire out and snuggle those fears away, not the fan to the flames. To wait until later to talk it out, not wave my flag of pride and be ready to argue back. To be peaceful and not provoke.
That peace allows me to walk into my twelve-year-old son’s room after a yelling spell, wrap him up in my arms, and listen while he tells me what is really on his heart. He trusts me. He knows I will not yell back. He knows I understand his emotions. He knows I get him. He can let that emotional flag fly here in this safe zone.
We share more than those freckles, son. Those emotions are mine, too. And your dad’s and your Papaw’s and your Gramma Cathy’s and your Nannie’s and your Uncle Chad’s… Don’t be ashamed or afraid. You come from a long line of outspoken people who love fiercely and have sacrificed all for their family. We’ve been scared. We’ve all thought no one understood. We’ve all thought we were alone. But we never ever were. No matter how you express yourself, what you are afraid of, what you decide to stand for or stand against, you will always be a part of this too.
Then I whisper in his ear, “You still have to do the dishes…” He laughs.
But I am serious, though. Nothing gets him out of that.
Beautiful, amazing overworked teachers…please read to the very end. Hear this mom (and out of the classroom educator)’s plea…
This year I am celebrating for another reason…I won’t have to hear 500 times a day…
MOM, CAN YOU BUY ME V-BUCKS?
MOM, IT’S RARE!
MOM, OH MY GOSH! PLEASE! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!
Oh, I understand. I understand that I should have bought me a piece of Epic Games two years ago. Good Lord.
The gingies are going back to school pastier than ever. Sure hope their cute freckles and Stringer sense of humor carries them since they haven’t done crap this summer. I had Pete write a grocery list, and it looked like caveman art. Bear actually asked me the answer to 4 x 240. Well…they say the jobs of the future haven’t been invented yet. Let’s hope they involve good looks and lots of online running around and yelling at each other! I’m banking on it–like my entire retirement. Don’t judge. Those are some really cute freckles.
Teacher friends, I hope no kid at school will ask you, “Hey, Miss Prettylady, can you buy me V-Bucks?” Well, there are those who call us “Mom” or “Gramma” on a regular basis, so who knows. I’m ok with the latter, it makes me feel loved…not the former. Makes me want to yell things.
So I had a revelation! Someone make a FartNoit classroom! Then, it will be really uncool. This will not happen overnight but eventually, it could…like when politicians and other grownups started dabbing, pretty soon–not as cool.
We can’t just play the game…to some kids that makes it cooler, like “I am so much better than my mom you guys. She’s a total Noob.” I have tried playing, and I just get shot at and run off the server…even when my darling Bear tries to help…no one revives me or gives me cool stuff…I just have the same clothes aka “skins” all the time…whatever…my sister can do dances and has skins and knows the lingo…she doesn’t get shot at…whatever…ol’ noob over here.
We need to saturate them with it AT SCHOOL! They will get so tired of the game they are so familiar with that they will give it up! The kids who have been left out may soon decide that since you are doing it at school that it was not that fun anyway. You’ll take away something many of them already have in common, and some shared language will be put in the wastebasket as you sweep the room clean for academic conversation! Fewer behavior problems as they have less to talk about! They will figure something else out to talk about anyway. Eventually, if you do it right, it will become a chore for everyone! No way they would ever extend your community outside the classroom and play teams or battle online together, and who wants them to? They need that time for homework! You won’t have to worry about setting boundaries about school talk vs game talk, online bullying, or standing up for each other. You won’t have to have real talk with your kids about online issues–ones they actually encounter, not things they see on a video from 2014. Nah, let them get that from somewhere else…why would they need that? they are not even going to be online! And no conversations about listening or talking–they can figure that out on their own too. I’m sure they’ll cover that in speech in high school or something.
PlayStations and XBoxes everywhere will gather dust as kids grow tired of the game during the week and want a break on the weekends!
A FartNoit classroom! That’ll show those kids who’s boss!
…but what if somehow, you used it instead to connect, to grow, to make your environment more interesting and engaging
We have to realize that everything isn’t our enemy. As parents and educators, we have to think, adapt, and value. To kids, this is real stuff, and I am not just talking about this latest thing. This is the world–the creative, changing world–they live in. When we quickly dismiss what we do not care about or understand, we are dismissing them. My sons tell me, “Mom! Oh my gosh! Come look at this new <<thing>>” When I tell them not now or we don’t talk about that, I am dismissing them not the game. Watch his or her face next time.
So if embracing pop culture, decoding the way kids communicate and learning what is important to them even if you don’t fully understand it (or see why it’s fun)…if you see the changing world not as their changing world but our changing world, understanding that these kids today are our kids, not to be dismissed because they like electronic things…if you can see in everything a chance to connect with kids in a new, interesting, and innovative way…you are my kind of teacher.
You are the kind of educator I’d trust with my freckle-faced cavemen. They are really cute and really good at FortNite, and if you mention this word to them, they’ll do anything in the world for you, even homework. But please really, don’t buy them V-Bucks.
The last few days I have really been forgetful. Missing some really dumb stuff. I forgot a key ingredient while cooking. I have been standing in the pantry and can’t remember why. I signed the wrong side of a big check we had been waiting for and really messed it up (who signs a filled out check on the signature line?). Then it all came to a head yesterday.
I put the garage door down on my husband’s car. Not once, but twice. If you know the hubs, you know–this was a big deal. Our cars look like they just came off of the showroom floor.
What I really wanted to do was grab a bottle from my endless supply of red from the basement (hubs traded a case of my favorite for our old table!) and head outside under the Kansas sky and forget about it. But there are a lot of stairs in our house, and that is not the best example to set for my boys or you, dear reader. So I wrote instead. This is the cleaned up version.
One of two things is going on in my brain when I start making really dumb mistakes. This could mean I have a massive migraine coming–good gravy they make me stupid. Or…there is something I am really afraid of that I am not dealing with.
The last time I had a buried fear, I had sent off a BRCA test–the one to see if I had the genetic mutation for breast cancer, the thing that took my mom… I thought it didn’t bother me until I was forgetting how to get to school, my hair was falling out, and I no longer remembered to shut the door (daily) to our house. I also realized I was drinking with every meal. It was awesome when that test came back inconclusive. Talk about some closure.
But now I will put on my big boots and deal with whatever this is. I don’t get to hide in addictive behaviors or burying myself in work.
With my next birthday, I will be ten years older than my mom ever got to be. October is coming up so I have to listen to everyone talk about mammograms, which I am awesome about preaching but not about practicing. I don’t think I have had one in eight years. Just seeing a flyer for them gives me a panic attack. Her birthday just passed, and I am far from her gravesite…I missed time to put flowers out and clean it up. And we recently attended a service for a beautiful, joyful young mom in our old neighborhood who passed away. Her son is Cameron’s best friend.
The loss of my mom is at the core of me…it affects all of my decisions. Every time I am too fearful to make sense of normal things, but I can still function (like now), I can usually trace it back to this.
One of my favorite things about my anxiety is that I constantly live with the fear that everyone I love is going to die. These thoughts are not normal, by the way. Medication? Yes, we can!
With years of counseling, medication, and finally being in a better state mentally, I can name my demons, but I still must make a conscious effort to fight them every day. I don’t get to hide. I don’t get to let the meds work on their own. I have to take care of my emotional and physical health, be a big girl and reach out.
This is part of healing. Knowing who your enemy truly is. For most of us, our enemy is our own thoughts…
As for me, I have done enough burying. Now I’ll put on my spiritual armor and fight the battle.
Then I’ll see if I can get those scratches out of Justin’s car…
I have had so much fun in the last two days…yesterday I registered the boys for school. Today I went to SUB TRAINING…on both days I got to talk to TEACHERS! Real LIVE teachers. This is only the second time since I left Texas! And it’s the first of the year so they are all excited! Today I even met a RETIRED teacher who also subbed for fourteen years! I told her, “Do you know you are a rock star?” Also commented on the fact that she still had all of her hair…and you know she got that one.
So the hubs has already told me that I didn’t need to sub, but I told him…I really need to be at school with some kids and some teachers! The key difference this year is I can choose both and leave them if I want…oh I jest, I jest! You who know me know far better than that. I figured out last week I have had three interviews in 22 years! I don’t leave much!
With the boys in different schools across (like 20 miles!) the district, us in a new state, hubs in a new position, blah blah…there is just no way I could go full time.
Ok, so if I am going to do ANYTHING in the classroom, I am going to do it all the way–this includes being a substitute teacher. My mind is racing, thinking of all the times my darling kids would say, “Mrs. Stringer, that guy was awesome…” and no work was done. Or, worse, all work is done, but they said “She was so mean to us, Mrs. Stringer. She yelled and didn’t help.” I’d rather have the nice guy. Sorry, but I need them to be loved on, as I am sure that you know, loyal readers…
That being said I have buckets-full of activities and extensions and 5-minute fillers and all that stuff just ready to go. If I sub one day a week, my district will never have a better sub than one-day-a-week-me! And I will talk to the kids and the teachers and the staff and make relationships…just like old times.
Then, I’ll get to do it all again. Somewhere else. Like a traveling showman. Awesome. So I think being a sub is really going to work out nice.
So here’s the gift–I think it’s pretty cool. I had to get some ideas on paper so I made one come to life today with a simple communication form. One is more suitable for you, and the other is more for my fellow showmen. I will be using it to communicate with those I leave in the wake of my incredible ability to both get work done and engage kids (you know it’s true!). I can’t wait to look at that teacher’s incredible lesson plans and tell him or her how well the kids behaved and did their work and all that good news we love coming back to after we’ve
been on a cruise been in Napa Valley been out with the flu!
I hope you love it and use it. I was going to put it on Teachers Pay Teachers, but I have not figured that part out just yet. So far I have an empty store with a logo!
Enjoy! And if you use it and like it let me know! I will send you more of my sub stuff when I am finished creating it! On with the show!