our first ALL NIGHTER!

Maybe I should correct myself. It was our *attempted, almost* all nighter.

Ever since I started to spend most of my time around kids in a classroom, I have been constantly fighting off some sort of sickness. Multiple symptoms ale me week to week. But such is life as a rookie teacher.

I came home from school on Friday afternoon and crashed. Went to bed "for real" around 10:00 and slept until about 10:30. Woke up and made some food for my better half.

We LOVE crescent rolls. We make various meals out of them by stuffing them with different things. One of our new family favorites (isn't it fun that I can feed this to my kids someday and say 'your dad and I loved these when we were first married and poor' :-) is something we call "roast biscuits". It's crescent rolls filled with roast beef and provolone cheese that you dip in aus jú sauce. Basically it's a cheap, french dip sandwich knock off. AREN'T YOU PROUD OF ME FOR COOKING SUCCESSFULLY!? baby steps. baby steps. Anyways, this morning was another one of our crescent roll faves. Half of them I sprinkled cinnamon on and rolled them around a marshmallow and violá! cinnamon rolls. The other half I filled with cream cheese and ham and POW! lunch is made. Brunch all on one pan and one low price.

As you might assume, that whole ordeal was just exhausting for my immune building self, so I went and took a 2 and a half hour nap.

Feeling much better after all my rest, I went outside to discover my handy man building a cornhole (bean bag toss) game from scratch. Sawing, hammering, and he even SEWED the bean bags himself. I helped [watched and stood on things he needed] him finish up. We played around in the backyard, this time with our new cornhole game, while he grilled, which is a weekend tradition. Listened to country music, two stepped, played fetch with rylee, sat around the fire pit and talked about our dreams, what we think our kids will look like, funny memories. A slice of heaven.

Now enter our nerdy side. When I was about 12 I had an older brother and therefore there was a playstation in our household. I spent some time playing games with him, but the only one I ever got into was Spyro. Judson has a playstation and asked me what games would be fun for me to play. I told him about my days of old school Spyro domination. So naturally, being who he is, he got it for me. It has been so fun reliving my childhood in a way playing it again! We have gotten so close to beating it and tonight was "THE NIGHT" we were going to beat it! "EVEN IF IT MEANS AN ALL NIGHTER!"

I'm working on my resume, because adulthood rests for no one.

We made popcorn, beat Spyro (insert hoots and hollers), and watched Hotel Transylvania. It was a wonderful Saturday night, but we were not able to make it an all nighter. We called it quits around 2:30 am and waking up for church the next morning was painful. But so worth it!

Now, before I forget I must show you Judson's birthday present to me. He MADE me a book and ordered it. I can't even... There are no words. 

old xmas wrapping paper, covered in electrical tape

Going to war

Here's what they don't tell you when you sit in classes at ACU for four years - every day you go into the schools, you go to war. Battle by battle till you make to the end of the day. Some battles you win and some battles your students win, but you never stop fighting. You face battles against what your student experiences at home and what they are expected to behave like in class. You faces battles like you wanting your student to learn and them wanting to do something else. Sometimes you have battles of you feeling exhausted and your students needing you to be 100%. But you never stop fighting to win those battles, because you know that winning these battles means making a difference in the world. Battle by battle, war by war.

You are faced with overcrowded classrooms, ever-tightening budgets and increased expectations. Nevertheless you must forge on. Instructing, disciplining, guiding, coaching, and inspiring in order for every little soul in your classroom to fulfill their potential.Teaching social studies and social skills, self-esteem and spelling, citizenship and science, tolerance and typing. You have to create a fire in them, an enthusiasm, to want to chase learning for the rest of their lives. You also have to make sure the achieve content mastery, even in areas they struggle in.

You have to be a counselor, mentor, friend, surrogate parent, disciplinarian, classroom control expert, group dynamics facilitator, learning disabilities specialist, motivational speaker, cultural torchbearer and coach, as well as a master of all knowledge over every subject. You have to package your lessons in creative and dynamic ways to hold the attention of a large group, as well as tailor your teaching to individual students with a myriad of different learning styles. It is the most challenging and the most rewarding career in the whole world.

Sometimes I ask myself, "Why Elizabeth.. Why couldn't you have just picked a nice desk job. Where you can drink your coffee and go pee when you want to. Where your daily work load and hours are somewhat predictable. Why did you do this to yourself?" and immediately I'm comforted by the knowledge that God designed me for this.

I went to a conference last week where a seasoned teacher told us that there will always be reasons to get discouraged in the field of teaching. There will always be fellow teachers who spew negativity into your school atmosphere. There will always be a flaw in the system. We must always guard ourselves against those things. Always guard yourself against the idea that you aren't strong enough, smart enough, energetic enough, creative enough, etc to change the lives of children (i.e. change the world).

Above all else, guard your heart,
    for everything you do flows from it.

Proverbs 4:23

So I'm completely talking to myself, as well as any one else who feels discouraged about how hard they work - never stop. Never quit fighting. Never quit going to war for the sake of making a difference. 

"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not."

-- Dr. Seuss 

I'm 23 and lame

10 years ago around this exact time began my impossible, obsessive, deep desire to be "cool". A LOT like THIS clip describes. I started this fear of "what will people think if [fill in the blank]?" It sounds ridiculous, I know. But I think a lot of you probably have felt something along the same lines at some point in time. And if not, then you are a special breed of human!

Here I am now, a decade later, a person that would have mortified my 13 year old self.

 

It became all too real to me this past weekend for ACU homecoming. ALL my dearest, best friends were together again and it was so divine. (minus my bekah still being 5 hours away).

But besides the comforting surroundings of my sisters, I was also reunited with a lot of people I went to school with. I was asked the typical questions of how is married life, what am I up to now-a-days, how is everything going? I was also just out in public, being social, and mingling with people my age. All of which I felt a lot like this...

In my defense, I do spend 8 hours every day with children talking in silly voices, singing songs, dancing around and making a fool of myself and the other hours with my man-child husband talking in silly voices, singing songs, dancing around, and making a fool of myself. My closest friends are doing things like going to nursing school, 2 are living Dallas lives, 1 is in grad school (genius), 1 is a news anchor, and 1 works for alumni associations for A&M. Do you see the difference in lifestyle? I'm lame. I admire all of them for the ways they are all beautifully different, but I've never let myself feel O.K. with being different than them. Initially it felt like I let myself go, but now it feels like I'm finally just letting myself find freedom in just being me. Lame and all. And you know what? To my students, my husband, and family members I feel like this...

Being 23 is weird because it feels like I have my feet in two different worlds. My parents, Judson's parents, my grandparents, and my brother all either had a baby or were pregnant at age 23. Um.. What?? Surely, I can't be that old already. When all my friends were visiting my house this weekend, that I live in with my husband, I felt so old. Surely, I can't be as young as they are. WHAT AGE AM I!? Oh, life. It's so funny how we compare ourselves to each other. Why do we do it? Why can't we just release ourselves to follow our own journey even if it looks strange standing side by side to someone else's? Let's all just ease up on ourselves and each other. 

My sister in law once said, in some round about way, that a true sign that you're an adult is embracing your inner weirdness. So that is what I plan to do on this 23rd year of life. I plan to just find joy in the things that truly give me joy even if that means letting go of the fact that I'm not that cool. I love going to bed around 9:30! I like vacuuming, reading, and doing crafts! I love documenting every small moment of life with pictures! I suck at small talk in social settings! Sorry 13 year old Elizabeth, I gave you a decade of effort. After all, aren't your 20's made for finding who you really are?

to my kindergarteners

To my sweet kindergarteners,

Tomorrow is my last day to student teach in your class and I know you don't understand why. I wish I could explain in a way you would understand why I have to move to a new class but how I still care about you so much. I hate that you will feel confused and probably a little bit betrayed when I am not there to greet you at the door every morning or hug you goodbye at the end of your day like I have for the past eight weeks.

You have taught me more than I'm sure I taught you. I learned quickly that I didn't have my patience trained to handle 22 energetic 5 year olds for 7 hours every day. But we learned together, didn't we? I'm sorry for the times I lost control and had to raise my voice at you. I know you are sorry for the times you couldn't help but wiggle around on the rug because your little 5 year old body couldn't sit still any longer. Thank you for showing me grace when I stood in front of you with pure fear on my face not knowing what to do. Thank you for laughing with me when I'm in the middle of a lesson and my big book falls on top of me. Thank you for giving me your very best whenever I asked you to "be Mrs. Foster's helper". Thank you for being you.

It has been an honor to be a nurse to you when you scrapped your knee on the playground and needed me to give you a band-aid or bumped your head and just needed me to hug you till it didn't hurt so much. I have watched you grow so much over the past weeks, so much more than I even knew little humans could grow. You helped me grow too, as a teacher and as a person. You worked so hard for me. When we would do hard stuff like try to understand why letters make the sounds they do or learn what patterns are, your little brains just worked and worked until you understood. I'm so unbelievably proud of you.

During this time, I doubted my ability to be able to be a teacher, but you never did. Your notes, hugs, little hands holding mine and sweet comments kept me going even on the hardest days. I had to miss a day because I was so sick this week and when I came back, with a sore throat and achy head, you would just randomly yell out "I love you Mrs. Foster" to make me feel better. And I love you. I love you to the ones who have happy homes you go to after school, and I love you to the ones who I pray for so hard because I know school is much more comfortable for you than your home. I love you to the ones who struggle and I love you to the leaders. I love you to my little mess makers and I love you to my classroom helpers. I will try to say goodbye to you tomorrow with strength and not let you see how sad I am, because I know you need me to be strong for you. And even though I know you will never remember me, your kindergarten student teacher, I promise I will never forget you.

All my heart,
Mrs. Foster

this is your LAST time...

A couple of days ago, at the school I am student teaching at, there was a high school intern talking to me while I was making copies. This is how our conversation went:
Intern: Wait, are you just engaged or are you already married?
Me: I'm already married! I got married two months ago
Intern: And how old are you? like 21?
Me: No, I'm going to be 23 in a couple of weeks
Intern: So why on earth did you get married so young? I don't want to get married till I'm like 35 or something
Me: (Laughing awkwardly, because I can't even believe this conversation is happening with a 17 year old stranger) Well, I guess the best way to explain it is, that I didn't want to live any more life without having my husband be my husband. 22 years was a long enough wait for me. Everyone's different!

As I left this conversation my head started spinning with all sorts of different answers I could've given or should've given. Don't you hate it when that happens? When your brain starts to become brilliant when you are alone in your car and there is no one for you to bestow your wisdom onto!

I would like to say that this is the first time that Judson or I have gotten the, "Why on earth are y'all rushing into this?" type of conversation. While we were engaged and getting closer and closer to marriage everyone LOVED to tell us about our last time to do this or that.
This is your LAST time to have your last name..
This is your LAST time to not live with a man..
This is your LAST time to go out and "live it up"..
This is your LAST time to be a virgin (People loved to freak me out with this one!)
This is your LAST time to live with your parents..
This is your  LAST time to not be locked down..

You get the point. I wish I could say that none of this got to me. There were times I began to panic and think "NO TAYLOR SWIFT SONG WILL EVER APPLY TO MY LIFE AGAIN!" or "how are we ever going to split up our holidays among our families?!" etc etc...

But this is what people don't tell you is that all of your FIRSTS far, far out weigh your lasts. Our first house, our first vacation, our first time to wake up in the middle of the night at the same time and laugh for hours and hours about inside jokes and memories, our first collaborative bad day, our first meal to cook together, our first holiday traditions...

We live in a culture that thrives on the negative. A nay-saying society. "Marriage is wonderful, but it's really hard." I think that is such a mindset problem. Life is hard. Let's not put all that burden on marriage. Judson and I aren't perfect people to each other all the time. We can drive each other crazy sometimes! But I refuse to let myself blame him for a bad day or expect him to read my mind and then become disappointed when he doesn't meet my expectations. A huge word that I want to staple in my marriage is APPRECIATION. Appreciate the small things. Every single night while I lay in bed, Judson holds my hand until I'm asleep. Even when he's not going to bed for a couple more hours. Why didn't anyone say to me "this is the last time you ever have to fall asleep alone" when I was engaged? Life is full of firsts and lasts in every season. I'm going to start focusing on the sweetness of the firsts instead of the sting of the lasts. God is so incredible in the way He designs our paths, y'all.