My hand is normal sized

This marshmallow is not.

Endings and Beginnings

This time of year is a sappy, sentimental time for me. Of course, I'm a sappy, sentimental person in general. I think it's because of the way I live my life. I give little bits of myself away quite freely with stories about my life, glimpses into my soul and the core of who (and why) I am. Most every student who has me for a while begins to realize that I have a deep and complex emotional and physical relationship with chocolate. They realize at some point that they've never seen me in pants and the first few weeks of knee sock weather, I mean winter, always gives them pause as they view my favorite socks for the first time. My disdain for carbonated beverages and dislike of television concern many of my students and the fact that not only do I read, but that I read well over 100 books a year causes many of them great amounts of confusion. Despite knowing all of these things about me, very few come to truly know and understand me. I'm a complex person. If you only look at the outside, you see a slightly eccentric person with super cool socks. I'm more than that though. Some will truly know me and some won't. The choice is theirs to make.


I cry at graduation. I cry a lot. I love graduation. I'm so proud of my students. I truly love them. Most teachers can't say that. They don't even want to love their students. Loving someone is hard and, quite often, painful. For those who know and understand, it's the lesson of the fox. When we go to the effort to really get to know someone, to "tame" and be "tamed", we're responsible for each other. I'm responsible  for my students and even though they don't realize it, they're responsible for me. I cry at graduation because of pride in their accomplishments but a part of me is crying because of what I'm losing, a little piece of myself that I gave them through my stories, my time, my devotion to defending them even when they didn't realize it. They'll carry it with them always, even if they forget about me. I never hold it against them. When they make the promise to stay in touch, they mean it, but promises like that are pie crust promises-- easily made, easily broken. Life carries on whether we want it to or not. I don't blame my students for changing, for living life and forgetting about me. Change is a necessary part of life. Without it, we become stagnant and die. Instead, I want my students to flourish, to live happy, full, content lives with dreams and hopes and sorrows. I'm a part of their past. I know that. All I can hope is that I was an important part.

The Wisdom of Chocolate

I believe in fate. I believe that there is a higher power in control of my life. That doesn't mean that I blame God for everything that happens, but rather, I believe that the grand plan of my life is far too complex for me to comprehend. As such, I often see the little things that happen to me as sign posts, little road signs that let me know that it's going to be okay.


My day started out badly today. I didn't let it get me down, but I kept waiting for it to turn around and seem better. Some days I go to bed still waiting for the turn around. Sometimes, I wait for days. Today, I waited until second period. Maritza gave me chocolate. That made me feel better even though I didn't eat any of it right then. (I know! What will power I have.) After lunch, I started on the Dove. This is what I learned.

1. Think of something that makes you smile.

2. Have no limits today.

3. Enjoy the small things in life.

4. Escape for a moment.

5. Make a date with your favorite book tonight.

6. Too much of a good thing is wonderful.

7. Get out there and make your dreams happen.

(Yes, I ate seven pieces of chocolate in the space of a few minutes. Sue me. It was a bad day.)


(But not anymore. Merci, Maritza.)