Thursday, March 14, 2013

My New Poem

Poetry has always been cathartic for me.  While I do not feel I am a natural Langston Hughes, by any means, I always like to write poems to release my emotions to the "universe." Wow- that sounded super emo.  Anyways, please enjoy.


Love’s Garden

In the budding of life, love was family. 
New parents trying to do the right thing.  Cry. Laugh. Hug.
It was new words and first steps, long nights and songs to sleep.
Growing.
In Kindergarten, love was friends.
Coloring blank canvas adorned with sketches of cartoons. Nap. Play. Run.
It was play-do shapes and imaginary games, playing house in the sand box.
            Growing.
In elementary school, love was learning.
Desks in organized rows like patches of grass separating city streets. Organized. Homework. Backpack.
It was having the box of crayons with the sharpener, diagramming sentences into distorted stick figures.
            Growing.
In middle school, love was caddy.
Whispers behind backs of friends.  Fight. Choke. Façade.
It was sitting at the right lunch table, “you’re poor- lunch in a plastic bag?” she said. 
            Growing.
In high school, love was unrequited. 
Heart flutters and butterflies to look at you. Ignoring the reality. Deception. Forgiveness. Naive.
It was in the form of an old Cadillac and slow songs, shoulders of friends wiping away tears.
            Growing.
In college, love was freedom.
Thousands of ants scattering to-and-fro, searching for themselves. Happiness. Adulthood. Change.
It was no classes on Friday, parties in the Webb. Some fair-weather friends- come and gone.
            Growing.
In marriage, love was unconditional.
Flaws become perfection. Made in His likeness for each other. One. Friendship. Family.
Walking down an aisle to pledge forever, patience and kindness guiding us through life.
            Growing.
In death, love is remembrance.
Memories kept safe in your legacy. Stories past down from year to year. Eternal. Treasure. Recollect.
Live life well- to have lessons learned. Immortalize the mark you left on the world.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

A Lesson from Aristotle

"The worst form of inequality is to try to make unequal things equal." - Aristole

One thing I love to see in the morning is students walking into my class.  It is, however brief, a moment that they are all equal.  If you look at their faces, they can tell you, nonverbally, about everything they're thinking.  You can tell what kind of day they're going to have, how well they will participate, or whether they haven't taken their medicine.  Teaching 7th graders is even easier because along with their facial expressions are loud sounds of either joy or agony coming from their mouths.  Today, I knew, as soon my students walked in, it was not going to be the best day.  They all filed in quickly, as they know not being in the seat by the bell is almost punishable by death (joking, of course).  Most of them were smiling, asking me whether we would continue reading "Out of the Dust."  Their smiles faded when I said, "No."  Then it hit- like a smell as you're walking by a sewer.  All of the happiness that was in the classroom had by sucked out.  My tallest student, a young man with a typically cheery affect walked into the room with the scowl meaner then Mr. Scrooge's (before he met the ghosts).  "Good morning," my co-teacher said to him as he walked in the door.  He looked at her with a blank expression and proceeded to his seat in silence. 

"What in the..." I was thinking, but decided to let it go.  "Maybe something bad happened on the bus," I thought to myself and moved along with the lesson.  I quickly noticed by his less than usual attitude towards work that today was not going to be a good day.  I knew why he was mad.  This past weekend, after warning him numerous times about his off-topic conversations as his group was trying to conduct literature circles, I called home and expressed concern.  Now he was in trouble, and he thought not doing anything in class and ignoring his teachers was going to make me pay for it.  (Kids are so funny!)  Needless to say, before class was over, I decided to talk to him, one-on-one, to get him back on track.
  
I must preface this next part by saying that, since moving from my old school district, where students would attack teachers and other students (verbally and physically), to my new district, I believe that my students are angelic.  They are typical middle school students who might get a little off topic, act strangely, and exhibit crazy behaviors, but for the most part, are kind to me and each other, and have NEVER, EVER been disrespectful.  With that being said, I immediately started to see shades of my past school when conversing with this student.  While maintaining a fine line between respect and utter disrespect, he made his point quite clear- he thought I was being "unfair," and that is why he had an attitude.  He said it was "unfair" that he was the only one punished when another boy was talking just as much as he was. Parents and teachers alike know that "unfair" is a word that kids just have a magnetic draw to by the time they turn 13.  It is like a rite of passage- I remember going through it myself.  Despite my outward appearance of being completely displeased and intolerant of his tone, inside, I actually felt bad for him.  He was right, it wasn't fair.

What I verbally (and somewhat nonverbally) told him was to worry about himself. "Two wrongs don't make a right," "Life Isn't Fair," and all of the other cliches we heard in school and from our parents.  What I really wanted to say was, "Trust me, kid, I don't want to give that other kid chances.  I would like to kick his butt out of class daily, but his legal accommodations require otherwise," or "I know it seems like I am unfair to you, and I don't want to be, but it is because this other student has paperwork that states I HAVE to give him preferential treatment, even though it burns my heart and soul each time I have to turn a blind eye."  If he were older, perhaps he would understand.  If I didn't care about compromising my job, I would have told him the truth, that equality is not always fairness.  

In my few years of teaching, I have discovered that many things I thought I knew, many ways I thought things should be done, and many social expectations we hold are wrong (or not so black and white).  This would be one of them.  I used to think each student should be treated exactly the same, with the exact same expectations.  I quickly found out this is was not even a possibility.  When students have disabilities, behavior problems, or if they are just struggling learners, it would not be fair to treat all of those students equally, despite my initial desire to try.  The truth is, you do have different academic and behavioral expectations for your students.  Does it mean that you believe in one less than the other?  I don't think so because we each have our strengths and weaknesses- wouldn't you rather be judged for what you can do, rather than what you cannot?

I hope that one day, my student will look back on this day, and understand the true nature of his situation.  I hope he smiles when he realizes that he was being treated "unfairly," knowing that it means he was expected to be different and rise above.  I hope on that same day, he walks into a classroom, or a board room and smiles to replace the disdain of his morning today.






Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Out with the old...

Happy New Year to all!  

This morning, as I was sipping the last of my Trader Joe's Vanilla and Cinnamon tea, I started reflecting on the happenings of 2012 and thinking about all of the things 2013 could have in store!  2012 was a wonderful year for me and my family, filled with typical ups and downs, but mostly laughter and exciting memories.  My husband, Ron, and I laughed our way into 2012 when we went to a Kevin Hart show, a birthday gift I gave him.  Two of my best friends, Courtney and Amanda got engaged.  My cousin, Heather, also got engaged.  I continued to pursue my Master's degree and maintained a 4.0 GPA.  Ron and I celebrated our first anniversary and gifted ourselves a trip to New York, which was filled with unforgettable memories for both of us.  The most exciting event was that I got a new job that I absolutely love.  I feel appreciated and recognized for the hard work I do and, even though I miss my old coworkers, I have made new friends I know will be extremely influential in my 2013 life.

2012 wasn't all good, as I lost my grandma.  Despite that, I can feel her with me, watching me always and I strive each day to make her and Grandpa proud.  My dog, Karma, for whom this blog is (partially) named, gave us many medical scares after biting a battery in January and randomly breaking out in hives in June, but both things ended up being minor, which was truly a blessing!  My only remaining friends in Virginia Beach moved away- Kristen and Rick, we miss you terribly! I am thankful for having so many wonderful friends who have filled my life with such happiness, but I definitely wish they were a little closer!  Ron and I didn't have a baby, like a had anticipated, but 2013 has smiled at me, and winked it's eye; it has offered me a possibility.

There are many things that are certain in 2013, my love for my husband will grow even stronger than it is today.  My friendships with continue to blossom.  I will be able to witness my friends and family make the next step in love with their significant others when they say "I do."  Karma will still sleep, play, eat, and maintain her lifestyle as the most beautiful, spoiled dog princess alive (and hopefully not eat any more batteries).  I will graduate in May 2013 and begin my doctorate degree.  I will work on myself- mentally, physically, emotionally.  I will keep writing, no matter how many people are reading and listening because it gives me peace.

I hope you all have a wonderful 2013.  I can't wait to see what is in store for us all!  Cheers!

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

To Be...or Not to Be

When I was younger, two of the first gifts I ever received were Cabbage Patch dolls.  One was Katie, a lovely young string-head whose sunshiny face constantly cheered me up on even the most difficult of days.  The other was Nicholas, a boy doll I acquired when my little brother was born.  He was supposed to be a foil of my little brother, and, in fact, he was.  Despite the similarity that they both were bald, my brother was loud and cried a lot- as many babies do- and my Nicholas was quiet and content.  I could only attribute the difference to me being an exceptional "doll" mother.

As I grew up, my greatest dream was to get married and be a mother.  I looked forward to decorating a nursery and arguing with my spouse about what names to choose.  I was one of the first people to start using those websites that generate what your future baby will look like.  While my friends were watching Gilmore Girls (which I love), I was watching A Baby Story.  I couldn't wait for that moment that I would hold my first child in my arms.  I wondered if I would cry like many of the mothers on TV and in movies.

Well, I have fulfilled one part of my dream.  My husband and I got married in August 2011.  Despite my interest in having a baby right away, we decided to wait a while, since my husband felt it was the right thing to do.  It was what everyone told him he should do- so we waited for a little less than a year.  What was a few extra months, I thought to myself.  I can wait for a little while longer, and at the time, I thought I could.

The months seemed to pass by quickly.  With each passing one, I was getting so excited- I would look for nursery ideas and healthy eating habits online to prepare me for this wonderful experience.  I created a board on pinterest, thinking that soon, I would need all the pregnancy and newborn help I could get.  I anticipated everything- had a preconception check-up, set up a new "baby savings account," and started taking prenatal vitamins.

The one thing I hadn't anticipated was that it wouldn't happen.  We started trying in June 2012, that was  seven months ago.  After the first two months, I wasn't discouraged, but as the months continued to pass, I grew increasingly more desperate, depressed, and confused.  I should have bought stock in pregnancy tests.  People probably thought I was crazy because I would constantly touch my breast to see if they were tender, like I read they would be.  I got excited every time I got nauseous or tired- thinking this would be a sign of pregnancy.  I can't describe in words the pain I felt each time I would stare at the negative stick.

My doctor told me everything was okay and I should just keep trying, even knowing my periods are irregular and often don't come, a problem I have been having since college.  I don't have PCOS, or endometriosis, so why is this happening to me?  There had to be a reason.  It was easy for some people...most people, even.

This month, I decided things needed to change.  I was tired of feeling depressed and stressed, so I put on my big girl pants, got a new doctor, and started doing more research.  My doctor immediately felt my urgency and put me on clomid.  Suddenly, I see light at the end of the tunnel.  I feel refreshed and excited to see what my future has in store.

I have not wanted to share my story, for fear of judgement and because I was ashamed.  After sharing it verbally with many people, I have come to realize that my story is not as uncommon as I had predicted. In fact, many women struggle with getting pregnant.  I have met more people who tried a variety of methods before getting pregnant, and that fills me with so much hope and joy.  I believe everything happens for a reason, and if nothing else, it has proven to me how strong and resilient I am.  I will not give up on my dream of being a mommy, no matter how long it takes.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." -William Shakespeare

My name is Jamie, but I go by many other aliases. My husband calls me babe; my mom calls me Sweetie; my dad calls me girl, which I undoubtably am; my friends, with whom I have grown up since elementary school, call me Jams because of my love of music; my middle school students call me Mrs. LO, since saying my hyphenated last name takes up too many seconds of their time; my co-workers call me J.Lo...for various reasons. Interestingly enough, I feel a closer connection to all of these nicknames than to the one bestowed upon me at birth. I always felt that Jamie was so plain, so boy-like, so NOT me. Hearing that I was named after my grandfather, James, made it even worse. What girl wants to be told that she was named after a man (no offense Grandpa)?  As a fifth grader, I would dream that my parents had named me Salvatrice, the unique name of my Sicilian great-grandmother. As a teenager, my name was Thalia, and exotic name, given to men who wished to obtain my "digits." "Jamie" seemed hardly big enough to define all that is me: my outgoing personality, my "short fuse," my tell-it-like-it-is approach, my subtle shyness, my anxiety issues, my fountain of wisdom, my mountain of mistakes...yes, Jamie was not a name that could possibly embody all that is me.

Today, while I was preparing this first (not really) blog post to introduce myself and my blog, I was trying to think of something exciting to tell you about me or something profoundly interesting that would make you want to read my blog. Sadly, today was the first day in my short 25 years of life that I realized my name is not what defines me; it is not what makes me interesting, or what people recognize me as. I am babe, Sweetie, girl, Jams, Mrs. LO, and J.Lo. I am the granddaughter, and name-sake, of a wonderful man, James, who I know is watching over me from above. I am a young lady who is trying to write a blog to share her feelings, her experiences, her highs and lows, her insane ideologies in the hopes that one person may read it and have a chuckle, or a cry, or say, "Oh, my God! I can totally relate!" So, I will tell you again, my name is Jamie, but what I'm really telling you is that I am an imperfect, unpredictable, opinionated, compassionate, humorous, loving person who would love for you to come along on this journey with me. I can promise that it will be nothing short of an unforgettable experience :) Until next time...

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Make a Wish




For anyone who has ever planned a wedding, you may be able to relate to the fact that the in the last two months, the planning that seemed super fun in the beginning starts to get really tedious...even boring. I love the small details, but some of these little things are driving me crazy. Between table placements, waiting on people to respond in a timely manner, finalizing the draft for the ceremony, getting all of the bridesmaid/groomsmen/parent gifts, etc., my Target, Michaels, and Crate and Barrel shopping trips have been helping me keep my sanity. Today, I tried to kill two birds with one stone. I did something fun, while also not spending a ton of money and--- guess what-- it is for my wedding! I am finishing one of the details! YEAH!

My wedding has a "City girl meets country boy" theme and is turning out to be more "chic rustic." Something that my mom suggested that we do is a "Wishing Tree." If you have never heard of it before, you're not alone, as I had to research it myself. I did some research and found out that it is a Dutch tradition. Although I am not Dutch, I must say that I like their wedding idea. So, I picked up a few branches, a pot (which was on clearance), rocks, and a green Styrofoam ball from Michael's so that I could make a tree. I also got a piece of scrap wood from Home Depot, some neutral colored paint and used some of the acrylic paint I already had and decided to make a sign to tell people what to do. I posted a few pictures of the process and the finished product. It was super easy and really fun. I can imagine how it all is going to come together. If you want to take a break and do something fun and creative, you could make a decorative wishing tree. You could make your house guests leave a wish every time they come over. It would also be a perfect centerpiece for a fall party. Take a vacation and do something for your home, yourself, or a friend.


How-to make a wishing tree

- buy a pot
- buy a styrofoam ball to fit in the pot
- buy branches (oak or birch)
- cut off top of the styrofoam ball
- carefully place the branches in the styrofoam. Make sure that the branches are securely placed in the styrofoam.
- cover the exposed styrofoam with rocks.
- have your guest hang a wish on the tree

Here was the final product at our wedding!


Friday, July 8, 2011

Happy Birthday Karma!



Growing up, I never thought I would be one of THOSE people. Some of my family members were some of those people and I never understood it. It was not until I got a dog that I really understood what it meant to be apart of that crowd. I had always seen people with their animals talking to them like babies, kissing them, letting their pets kiss their lips (still kinda gross), or dressing their pets in expensive fur coats with pink buttons that accented the beloved pet's fresh manicure. Crazy...Absurd, I thought, until today. Today, my lovely dog Karma turned one. I showered her with love, bought her three presents (one of which includes a new red and leopard print bed, which totally matched nothing in my room, where she sleeps, but my fiance felt the need to get anyway), and I even made her a peanut butter and bacon cake. As I was mixing her cake, I realized that I was now, officially, one of those people whom I had scoffed at many years ago- I wasn't ashamed. I was so excited for her to eat what I am sure was a delicious concoction and was greatly delighted as I watched her devour it from her bowl.

The surprising thing was, I really enjoyed doing this for her. For once, it was not about making my fiance dinner, or cleaning the dishes for the 15th time today. I was able to try something new, that I wanted to do. I has been looking forward to making her cake all week. When I was finally able to give her a nice birthday today, I not only accomplished something I had never done, but I was also able to take a break from the busy business of last minute wedding planning and graduate school work.

If you have a dog you adore- plan him or her a birthday party. Get a few goodies and make a cake, the recipe of which I list below. Best of all, it gets your mind away from the worries of everyday life and lets your pet know how much you care. Let me know how it goes! :)

Peanut Butter and Bacon Doggie Cake

1 cup flour
1 egg
1/4 cup peanut butter
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 t vanilla flavoring
1 t baking soda
4 slice cooked bacon, crumbled

Preheat oven to 350 degree. Mix all ingredients in a medium sized bowl. Put mixture in a lightly greased 8 inch circular pan or bone pan, if you have it. Bake for 15 -20 minutes. Let cool and serve.