Your Eyes Have Seen


Psalms 139:13-16

For You formed my inward parts; You wove me in my mother’s womb. I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are Your works, And my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from You, When I was made in secret, And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth..Your eyes have seen my unformed substance; And in Your book were all written The days that were ordained for me, When as yet there was not one of them.

These verses have been playing through my mind lately, as the sickening and sad information continues to emerge concerning Planned Parenthood and their heinous selling of aborted babies body parts, for profit. For my readers that live outside of the United States, you might not know what is going on right now. Planned Parenthood is a business that runs under the guise of women’s “healthcare”. Some of their funding came from our own government. Although there is some women’s healthcare provided, such as pregnancy tests, birth control, or other gynecological services, Planned Parenthood is most well known for their abortion services. If that isn’t bad enough, it has recently come to light that they have been retrieving the aborted babies “intact” organs and selling them for a profit. This ghastly news is stirring commentary on both sides of the abortion issue.

My post today is not going to be about abortion, or the illegal selling of body parts. I am not going to discuss the seared conscience of this society. I won’t talk about how skewed our perspective has become in this country, that we would be more saddened by the unjust killing of whales, or lions, or dogs…..and yet, not grieve for the millions of babies that have been murdered since the early 1970’s. I won’t discuss the broken pieces of the souls of women that often live in grief, silent shame, and hurt, over taking the life of their unborn baby all in the name of women’s “rights”

For You formed my inward parts…… indeed life itself is a miracle. An egg and a sperm come together. Cells divide. Organs are formed. It is not a mistake. It is not happenstance. It is an incredible miracle. God, Himself is the Creator of human life.

My frame was not hidden from You, when I was made in secret…..before a baby is ever seen by human eyes, he or she is seen by God. Your eyes have seen my unformed substance… Allow yourself to dwell on that for a moment.

And in Your book were all written the days that were ordained for me… the unformed bodies, that will never be born, have souls. God already has their stories written. Their short lives are not forgotten by the One who knows and sees each of them.

Ride The Waters Of Time

I’m going to turn forty-five in a few weeks. To some of you that might seem ancient, and to others it is still “young”. Honestly, I’m not sure

Alternative version of image:Wooden hourglass ...

how I feel about it. My husband (who will turn forty-nine this summer) and I were talking about age the other night. I, being the somewhat occasionally morbid person that I am said, “I’m probably more than half way through my life”, to which he replied, “me, too”. Then we were quiet for a few moments, mulling that over, I suppose. Then I said, “When did this happen? I don’t feel like I should be forty-five, on the inside I feel much younger.” He laughed at me. Okay, maybe not AT me….maybe WITH me….but, the truth is, I wasn’t really laughing. I was being serious, well sort of with a smirk. Where in the world did the time go? That became a very real question to me.

I graduated high school in 1986 and college in 1990. The times at school seem almost surreal to me, like it might as well have been a million years ago. So much has happened since then. So much has changed me, so much has aged me. My marriage to my first husband ended when he died in the Fall of 2000. Our wedding, buying our first house, giving birth to our son, those things all wrapped in a time capsule mist. Now, I’m remarried, that first house was sold years ago, and my baby boy will be turning eighteen, only two days after my birthday. Time does not trickle, it gushes. It plunges me under like a roaring white water rapid. I’m left gasping.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy. I’m not miserable, sitting around waiting to die. Nothing like that at all. There is so much good in my life, I have been blessed in so many ways, it would be impossible for me to count them all. I’m living a life that I would never have dreamed of even a decade ago, much less when I was in college, young and single. My Eucharisteo (Give Thanks) board is full, and I am fully aware. Aware of all that is a gift. Life itself is a gift, you know. Sometimes I’m overwhelmed by it, both the good and the not so good. I came to the realization a long time ago that my God has a sense of humor, and He enjoys keeping this life of mine, interesting. He told me that He has plans for me, and a great future, and I believe Him. (For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11 NIV)

Forty-five. I’m a bit more “fluffy” than I was in my twenties. (Doesn’t that word sound so much better than chubby?) My hair shows a few strands of gray now (that is when I’m desperate to get my roots taken care of). I have a few (yes, only a very few!) wrinkles around my eyes. I have children that I am proud of, a husband that is truly my best friend, a family that loves me, and I have fulfilling work as a special education teacher. I live in the country, surrounded by God’s handiwork, and get to take care of  animals that I love and enjoy.

Yes, that river of time is still breaking hard all around me. There are days when I wish I could just stop and get out, sit on the bank for awhile. Slow down. Capture the moments….because I realize that I will never be this way again. There is no going back, only forward. The current takes me there, to the future in the days ahead. I’m not sure what will be there, or what is around the bend. I guess I’ll just have to ride the waters of time, and wait and see. After all, life is interesting that way…even if one is getting ready to turn forty-five.

We Are Losing Them







An Amish schoolhouse, simple and plain. I pass it often on my way from here to there.

It makes me think of what schoolhouses used to look like. One room, all grades.

Not perfect by any stretch but, having high expectations and a disciplined education.

No core standards, no teaching to the test. No crazy curriculum.

As an educator, I have become jaded by the current education system in this country.

Somewhere the love of learning has been replaced by the passion for political correctness.

Reading, writing, and arithmetic have been lost to regulations, assessments, and red tape.

It makes me sad. It really does.

I still love to teach, and my students bring me much joy.

But, in my opinion the foundation of this monstrosity that we call education is fractured.

There are fatal cracks in the foundation.

Unless something radically changes, and soon, we will lose generations of children.

Children that know everything about global warming, evolution as fact (not theory), how to be “green” and recycle, have read books about Johnny’s two mommies, know how to save the whales, and promote anti-bullying……

But, they struggle in reading, can’t think for themselves and don’t know how to even make change.

A real education should be about teaching children to love learning. Learning for a lifetime.

Learning that makes great people, who go on to do even greater things.

I’m scared. The grip is loosening. The little hands are being pulled away. We are losing them.



Be Courageous!

Movie theater

Image by JanneM via Flickr

“Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway.” —John Wayne


That single word, is the title of a movie that just hit the theaters.

No Hollywood schmooze. No pyrotechnics.

Just a good dose of reality, and…

one of the best movies I’ve seen, in a very long time.

Watching got me to thinking…..thinking about parenting. My children. My life.

The father in the story is on a quest to be a man of courage. He wants to be the father that God has called him to be.

That is no small feat, especially in today’s society. Being a father of courage means going against the odds. Going beyond the line of mediocrity, beyond “good enough”, and reaching for the very heart(s) of his children. Our world needs more men of courage. Men that aren’t afraid to tow the line, bear the burden, stand in the gap.

Being a parent is one of the greatest joys and (can be) the deepest of heartaches. It is a privilege that shouldn’t be taken lightly.

God also calls me to a higher standard. To His standard. It’s tough, and I’ve made plenty of mistakes. I’m challenged every day of my life. As a mother, I’ve known, and understood the closest I’ll ever come to unconditional love. I’ve cried tears of pure joy and I’ve been frustrated beyond belief as I look into the face of my child and know that he is JUST LIKE ME.

What does God call me to, as a mother?

Am I willing to take the challenge?

What will my legacy be? The memories I leave behind?

How will I make a mark on my children? On their lives? On the lives of their children?

Yes. The challenge is huge.

But, it is worth it.

Be courageous.



For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline2 Timothy 1:7 NIV

Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. Colossians 3:13  NIV

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Galatians 6:9 NIV

But those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faintIsaiah 40:31 NIV

You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit—fruit that will last—and so that whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you. John 15:16  NIV


As a mother, a wife, a daughter, a friend… my hope is in the Lord.  Through all of life’s challenges… He teaches me how to be courageous in my walk.

Simple Acts Of Faith

Child 1

Image by Tony Trần via Flickr

Simple acts of faith…it’s the topic we are discussing today over at Faith Barista.


Acts of faith.

When I hear that phrase this verse comes to mind…

Mark 10:13-16 ESV

And they were bringing children to him that he might touch them, and the disciples rebuked them. But when Jesus saw it, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” And he took them in his arms and blessed them, laying his hands on them.

Children are pretty simple. They usually wear their feelings on their sleeve, right out there in the open for all to see. They can say the most profound things in the most common of ways. Many times God has used the voices of young children to talk with me. Children haven’t been around long enough to become cynical, or hardened by the world. They accept things, they adapt, they love…right where they are.

Simple faith.

There is a reason that Jesus chose to speak of children in these verses…an example for us all.

Throughout my life, I have had the honor and privilege of witnessing simple faith. Through children. Family. Friends. Even strangers.

“This is the best job ever!”—me at 17, excited to get the opportunity to be a camp counselor with developmentally disabled adults (even then, God was sowing the seed in my heart and giving me a passion for this population)

“Would you be interested in being a special ed. teacher is a small town in Scott County, Tennessee?”—my college professor who had tracked me down over 500 miles and several states away

“Mommy, don’t cry. This is just Daddy’s body in the ground. Daddy is with Jesus right now and he is happy.” — The faith of my 5 year old son as he stood at the graveside of his Daddy.

“Mrs. S, the policy you thought was canceled, wasn’t. We’ll be sending you the money soon.”– A phone call to the newly widowed, faith that God would provide for me in a miraculous way.

“Mrs. S, those people in the buildings are hurting. It’s very sad. Can we pray for them?” — The faith of my second grade student, after she heard about the attacks on the World Trade Centers.

“I forgive you”– said to someone who never apologized, and having faith in God as One who heals.

“We’re all okay. God had his hand on us.” — After my car hydroplaned and slid sideways on the interstate, totaling the car, but not hurting us at all. (Less than a mile up the road there was a steep vertical drop off, if we had hydroplaned and went off the road there we would have been killed.) Faith that God is in each moment.

“Father I can’t find what I need. Can you please help me? I know this is a simple thing, but I really need your help!” — after looking and looking for various objects and then, there they are ……this has happened numerous times. Faith that there is nothing too small or too big for God to handle.

“We say we trust God. This is a circumstance where we will have to prove it. God promises to take care of us and provide for our needs.”— Paraphrase from my husband, after he lost his job of 22 years. Faith that God is Jehovah-Jireh and will supply all our needs.

Lord, I know you have a plan for me. All the doors to opportunities seem to slam shut. I trust you because I know you have promised me hope and a future.” — When in the midst of finding my niche’, faith that God has a plan for me.

“Look at that beautiful double rainbow!” —- Standing on the front porch with the family, enjoying God’s promise.

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. Hebrews 11:1 NIV


What are some of the simple acts of faith that you have encountered?


Happy Mother’s Day

Mother's Day cake

Image via Wikipedia

Whether she carried her child under her heart for nine months

Or adopted her child with a love that was meant to be

There are step mom’s that mother children they did not have, and yet love them as their own

Foster mom’s who step in and love children that desperately need to belong

Or maybe she gives a mother’s love to all the children in her life…because that is just who she is.

Mother’s are the ones who nurture, and snuggle

Kiss hurts

Give hugs

Soothe and calm a spirit

Clean messes

Cook the meals

Give advice

Play games

Drive the van

Are fiercely loyal

And extremely perceptive




Moms can never be replaced

Because there is never anyone that can take her place.


M is for Mommy

A pregnant woman

Image via Wikipedia

Mother. Mommy. Mom. Mama. Mum.  The names of  motherhood.

Being a mom—A job. A privilege. A calling. An adventure.

Sometimes scary, sometimes funny. Other times sad, most of the time, happy.

Loving a child, changes one forever.

I decided to pull some motherhood posts from my archives….because they are just as relevant today as they were when I first wrote them.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking about what it means to be a mom. I’ve been a mom for almost 16 years now. You’d think after that period of time I’d have everything under control, right? Neatly checking things off my to do list. I suppose I am feeling a little sorry for myself. Umm…… Most days I feel like the BEFORE picture in one of those before/after photo shoots. I wish I could be the AFTER. The mom that has it all together. The one who doesn’t ever worry about a dirty house, teen drivers, late schoolwork, attitudes, boredom, muddy floors, pet fur, or laziness.

I’m not mentally ill. I do understand the difference between fantasy and reality. But, a mom can dream…can’t she?

I must get like this each year. Check out my blog from last January at this time….. My own words come back to remind me that motherhood is a crazy ride, but I’m holding the hand of the One that holds the future–and that makes all the difference.


Motherhood. In my naivete’,I just knew that I’d have it covered. Puh-leeze!  I could do this….after all I KNEW children. I took Child Development classes in high school. I babysat. I majored in special education in college and took myriad number of COLLEGE level courses on the child psyche. If anyone could do this it was me. Supermom at your service. For sure.

Then reality hit. When I say “hit” I mean kind of like a baseball bat. To the head. Ouch.

I had my son in May of 1995. Just 2 days after my 27th birthday. My pregnancy went well except for the 6 week stint of barfing. Morning sickness AND evening sickness. Brushing my teeth even made me gag, but I was a trooper. I was determined to be with child AND have a bright white smile and fresh breath. So, I carried on.

My son was born 2 1/2 weeks early according to the doctors. I blame it on the fact that the evening before he was born we had a tornado in Knoxville, Tennessee. The barometric pressure dropped and I think it messed with my uterus. I’m just sayin’. Except for being born with a little jaundice, which to be honest I thought looked like a nice tan, the delivery went well  and my son was beautiful. Of course I had an epidural so there wasn’t much pain…just a lot of pushing. My husband was a big help and to give the man credit…he put up with a lot. (the fact that I had back labor before getting the epidural—well, that is another story.)

Now, at this point I was exhausted but happy. My son is a joy. I’m happy. He’s happy. My husband’s happy. We’re all happy. Then it hit. Reality. My epidural wore off and I was sore like I had never felt sore before. After several hours I decided I could get up and use the restroom. The nurse told me she would have to go with me. I told her I was a shy pee’er and I wouldn’t be able to go if she was in the bathroom. I tried to convince her I’d been peeing my whole life, and at 27 I had the procedure down pat. She told me I could pass out because of something to do with the epidural having worn off, blah..blah…. I told her that was silly. She finally agreed to stand at the other side of the door, with the door cracked open. I grudgingly agreed and went to sit down when, yes you guessed it, I started to black out. The nurse caught me just before I cracked my head on the bathroom floor. I vaguely remembered her yelling for ammonia…and my husband in a confused state asking why she wanted to clean the bathroom? This is my life. I should have known that I had just embarked on a journey that was NOT going to be a piece of cake. Only a few hours into motherhood and I was already passing out.

The next few years consisted of me listening to my little one struggle to breathe when he got bronchitis. Staying up all night and staring at his chest. Watching it heave up and down. Knowing that his tiny body was so fragile…yet, so resilient. After that scary time, it never happened again. Thank you Jesus. Then at 2 and 1/2 he was with his father, outside, when he decided that he’d get on the picnic table. He fell and cut his head on the seat of the table on the way down. Head wounds. Lots of blood. A father in panic mode. A trip to the doctors office. Stitches. I came home from work that day to find my handsome son looking like he had just took a few rounds in the boxing ring. Bruised with stitches marching just above his eyebrow. So attractive, and just in time for his preschool picture day!  That following Easter we decorated Easter eggs. Fun stuff. I made the mistake of telling my toddler that we would eventually eat the hard boiled eggs. One evening he got into the fridge when I was on the phone and preceded to eat the egg with the shell still on it. He came into the living room a few minutes later. His face, teeth, tongue and hands, all a nice pastel shade of blue. I began to freak out thinking that my baby was exhibiting symptoms of some rare disease. Until, he informed me, “Mommy, the Easter egg is good.” At that, I burst into giggles and attempted to scrub my little Smurf back to his normal skin tone as I explained that egg shells are not the part of the egg that we eat, even if it did look pretty at the time.

Over the years there were the good times and the difficult times. Bedtime stories, hugs and sloppy kisses, birthday parties. Lots of laughter and tears. Family vacations, and him holding my hand. Church choir, camps, video games, and silliness. Those of you that have sons know what I’m talking about.

When my little boy was 4 his father, my husband, was diagnosed with an incurable heart disease. He died a mere year and four months later. You can imagine the sadness. We had only just started and it was over. Just like that. Standing at my husbands grave, that cold gray day in November 2000…I felt a little hand grab mine. A little voice coming out of the body of a 5 year old, but seeming so much older and wiser said, “Mommy, don’t cry. This is only Daddy’s body here. Daddy is in Heaven with God.”  God spoke to me that day through my son. He wanted me to remember the promise of  John 11:25 “I am the resurrection and the  life. He that believes in Me, though he dies, yet shall he live.”  That day I was reminded that out of the mouths of children can come great wisdom.

The next five years were filled with normal life kinds of things. Church, school, vacations out  West, family get togethers, sleep overs at friends houses, spelling tests, and math homework, goofiness and seriousness. All of life in a big jumble. We were doing okay….me and my sidekick.

After 5 years of widowhood God brought another man into my life. A man that understood what I had gone through. Our experiences were similar. He had lost his wife a few years before. We were kindred spirits. No one wants to join The Widow/er Club, but death doesn’t ask if one wants membership. It just gives it to you.

We married in 2005. Along with this marriage I got another son and two daughters. Just as I thought I had the whole being a mom thing under control…. then reality hit. AGAIN. These children had lost their mother. My heart broke for them, just as it had for my own son at the loss of his Daddy. How does one be a mom #2?  There is no manual for it. Believe me, if there were one I would have read it. A LOT. How does one mother the motherless? I wasn’t sure how this would happen. What do I say? How do I act? What if they don’t bond with me? What if they hate my guts?  Then what?  God, in His infinite wisdom spoke to my heart.

“LOVE THEM. ADOPT THEM IN YOUR HEART. THAT IS ALL YOU NEED TO DO.  Dawn, you are my adopted child. I bought you for a price. You were redeemed and now you are mine. I love you because I choose too. Do the same for them. They need a mother’s love…not to take the place of the mother that they had….but, to show them that I am God and I will take care of them. I am their provider.”

You know what? God is good. All the time. Even in motherhood. Even in widowhood. Even in life. Even in death. Even in trauma. Even in calm. Through bloody noses, or skinned knees, through arguments, and “it’s not fair!”. Through hugs and kisses, school and projects. He remains good when I’m having a great day or when I’ve just been awarded “the worst mom of the year award.”

I like to believe that I am much wiser than I was back in my twenties. When I thought I had motherhood all figured out. When I had my own motherhood map all planned. Motherhood is messy, and chaotic, and fun, and sometimes broken. I am thankful in the midst of all my mom mess-ups that I am holding the hand of the One who promised me that He has a plan for me and a future with hope. A-men.”

11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. 12 Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”   Jeremiah 29: 11-13 NIV

At Faith Barista we are talking about moms and motherhood today. Won’t you join us?


Being A Mom And All That Jazz

A mother holds up her child.

Image via Wikipedia

Unless you are a mom,  you might not get this blog,’cause there are some things that only a mom would understand.

To all my mom friends…

1…..Things like walking across the kitchen floor with bare feet, only to discover that you’ve stepped in something sticky. Not really knowing what it is. And not wanting to know. It’s easier not to look.

2. ….Telling the kids to quit arguing in the back seat, or you WILL come back there!!! Even if it entails crawling over the seat and possibly getting strangled by the seat belt. A moms gotta do what a moms gotta do.

3. Understand that anytime you are on the phone a child will need your attention. Said child will do anything to get your attention, WHILE you are trying to have a conversation with the lady that works at the doctor’s office. You worry that she might have heard you yell, as you were hanging up the phone, “For the love of all that is good, GET THE UNDERWEAR OFF YOUR HEAD!”


5. Trying to appear calm, cool, and collected while your teenage son is driving. Praying that there are no cops around, also hoping that you don’t die in a fiery crash, burned to a crisp. Trying to look on the bright side…if that happens at least there will be no newspaper pictures of you.

6. Arm pit noises, burps, and flatulence are not as hysterical as some children seem to think. Hoping against all odds that they have not done any of these things while at other people’s houses. If so, you don’t want to know about it.

7. Trusting that everyone will graduate before they are 30—wondering why in the world I thought it was a good idea to home educate? ‘Cause now the ball falls directly in my court. Ugh.

8. Asking the Lord to already work on their future spouses hearts. “Oh God. Puh-leeze prepare my sons/daughter future spouse for them. I want them each to be blessed with a good marriage. Drop her/him right in their lap if need be. No, seriously God. I mean that. It would be a lot easier that way. Just sayin’.”

9. As a mom, I have to squirrel certain food away–if I ever want to see it again. Nothing lasts in a house with three teenagers. I’ve got rations laid up in the bedroom armoire.

10. Lay down at night and fall dead asleep from sheer exhaustion. Unless someone is up when they aren’t supposed to be, then I’m up like a shot because I have ears like a bat.

11. Reminding my children that I have a hot line straight to God. If they ever lie, cheat, steal, hurt someone, do ANYTHING they know they shouldn’t…God will TELL ME. I will find out. And I will deal with it.

12. Any child with even an inkling of self preservation, should have a healthy fear of their mother. End of discussion.

13. If you make me cry, you’ve really done it. How can you hurt me this way? I thought my greatest pain was when I birthed you from my loins! I was wrong. You’ve crushed me. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. ARE YOU FEELING GUILTY YET???

14. “No. I will not really bury you in the backyard. That is just an expression, sweetheart.”

15. I expect you to do your laundry. You smell ripe. It wouldn’t hurt you to slap on some deodorant either. It’s because I love you that I tell you these things.

16. I love you too. I’m glad I’m your mom….Yes, really.

17. It’s your turn to clean the toilet in the hall bath. I don’t get paid enough (at all) to clean that. Y’alls bathroom looks worse than a truck stop.

18. That is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done. I love you so much. Come here and get a hug.

19. When did you get so tall? I am still your mother even if I’m standing on a stool to look at you eye to eye.

20. I’ve got the best kids and I wouldn’t exchange them for anything in the world. Well…except for some chocolate. And that’s only if its the really, really good stuff. No. Of course, I’m just kidding. You’re much better than chocolate. No, I’m not lying for cryin’ out loud.

Keep On, Keepin’ On, Mamas!!!

Living The Life

Our computers

Image by aranarth via Flickr

As many of you know I am a former, public school, special education teacher. (mouthful, huh?) I loved my job because I loved my students–and their parents. (most of the time) Four years ago I resigned from my teaching career of 17 years to come home. I, with my husband, home educate our own three kiddos. It’s not just a job. It’s an adventure. I’m not talking an adventure, like back backing through Europe. I’m thinking more like living in the trenches in Cambodia. Just teasing. No, really I am. Seriously, people. It’s not Cambodia on most days. Well, unless it is a day that everyone wakes in a bad mood and Dad and I haven’t had our coffee yet. Then we’re talkin’ serious guerilla warfare. Just sayin’.  All in all our kiddos are intelligent, well rounded, and they drive us nuts. On occasion. But, would they be teens if they didn’t? It’s part of the circle of life. I just secretly smile, because I know that one day they will get theirs. God will bless them with children in their spittin’ image. And I will laugh on the inside….because as a grandparent I will spoil my grandkids absolutely rotten (as is my grandparental right) and I will send them back home TO THEIR PARENTS. And I will sleep like a baby:)


1. I know what my children are studying. This is important to me…because I’ve been on “the other side of the fence”, and I know some of the off the wall stuff that is taught in schools, under the guise of character training, or student enlightenment.

2. We can work at odd hours if the need arises.

3. We are not chained to calendars or clocks.

4. My children are readers. They read on a myriad number of subjects, not just assigned textbooks. I learn many things from my own children because of things they’ve seen or read.

5. The kids interact with people of all ages, from toddlers to the elderly. This opens the world up to new relationships.

6. The kids learn to figure things out on their own. They are excellent problem solvers.

7.  They understand that all of life is a learning experience. It doesn’t end after graduation.

8. We can work in our pajamas if we so choose.

9. The kids are still kids. We all have our ups and downs. No one is perfect. They do know that they are loved. They are not scared to go to school.

10. It’s really cool that I, as the teacher, can smooch on the “principal” during lunch break, and I won’t get in trouble. Yep. There are definitely some perks to this lifestyle:)

Helen Keller had it right when she said, “Life is an adventure…or nothing at all.”



What Happened To The 3 R’s?

Marysville Public School

Since I have devoted most of my life to learning, both as student and as teacher, I keep up with what is going on in the education arena. I’ve grown deeply concerned over the years about the educational system in this country. Let me tell you why. Every week there seems to be something new and disturbing on the news. There are things that I question, things that make no sense.

1. School used to be a safe place. When parents sent their children off to school they really didn’t fear that they could be shot. Or that a teacher might try and seduce their children (both BOYS and GIRLS)?

2. That their child might become the target of bullies, and sadly, take his/her life?

3. Who in a million years would have thought that teens would participate in “sexting”? Where was modesty lost? When did self-esteem get shattered?

4. Or that high school girls would make “pacts” to become pregnant?

5. When did Montana decide that kindergartners needed to know about detailed human anatomy? And by 5th grade be expected to understand different sexual positions?

6. When was it decided in Massachusetts that kids should go to a mosque on a field trip…and the children have the option to participate in Islamic prayers?

7. School boards are choosing textbooks that leave out entire sections of history. Important things.

8. I have witnessed many young children that are unable to even say The Pledge of Allegiance. It is not required for them to recite it on a daily basis at their schools.

9. Many of our country’s children graduate not even being able to read at an adult level…or fill out an application…or answer simple history questions? (Have you ever seen Jay Leno’s, Jaywalking excerpts?) Is it any wonder why perspective employers are shaking their heads?

10. When did this become acceptable?

11. Are we, as a society, like the frogs in the pot? Not realizing that the temperature is being turned up, until we are all boiled?

12. I’m usually not a negative person.

13. But, this is serious business.

14. Don’t get me wrong. There are many great teachers out there.

15. Yet, even a great teacher is shackled to his/her school district’s curriculum. If it is poor curriculum, he/she still must teach it–or face job loss.

16. I know.

17. I taught in the public school system for 17 years.

18. Make no mistake about it.

19. School is not what it used to be.

20. Children of this country ARE learning…but, the question is WHAT? And can we live with that?