I'm hoping that writing this post will be a therapeutic process for me. I'm also hoping that I won't start crying as I type, because I feel like I could at any minute, and at any minute I will be in the company of 32 fourteen-year-olds.

My house is empty. Well, except for a pack-and-play for my baby to sleep on, an air mattress that hasn't had air in it since 2 a.m. (Yes, it seeped out while I was sleeping, or trying to sleep), a table and chairs, a booster seat, and a junky old recliner that I told Gilbert he better not even think about hauling to Lafayette.

Cole knows something is up. He cried the whole time I put up his bed and blew up mine. He didn't want to sit on, lay on, or go near my mattress. He got so angry with me last night for telling him not to open the toilet seat (a request that I have to make often) that he squeezed my legs as tight as his little arms could and then proceeded to bite my leg. After swatting his bottom AND putting him in time-out, which I'm sure is a mommy no-no, I felt terribly guilty. My mom brought things to light after I called her for one of those good old "mom pep-talks." She said, "Kate, his world is changing, too. He knows things aren't the same, and he may act out for a while until things feel more normal." Wow! What a big impact this move is making on my one-year-old's life. That makes me feel guilty again.

This morning as I got him ready for school, he pitched a huge fit when I tried to get him dressed and got mad when we finished brushing his teeth. This is strange because he normally hates brushing his teeth. I distracted him by letting him turn off the light switches. This always brings a smile. I took him in to daycare and handed him off. He usually cries a little when I drop him off, but today he looked at me just before he started crying and said, "Ma-ma?" It almost broke my heart.

This brings me to the condition I am in this morning. I have seriously contemplated calling for a sub tomorrow, my last day of work, so I won't have to drop him off again. I guess daycare, though, is normalcy, and that's exactly what he needs right now.

I have been totally fine with turning my own world upside-down, but when I see that this move is affecting Cole, it makes me incredibly sad. He is so resilient, though. He always has been. I know that in no time, he'll be back to himself. Gotta love that boy.


Chocolate Saves the Day

Here's a piece of info. about me that you may not know. I seem to work best under pressure. That's a fancy way of saying that I like to procrastinate. It's two days until the big moving day, and today was our first and only official packing day. It was exhausting.

I have packed a little here and there, out of necessity, but never full-fledged, "all I'm going to do today is pack" packing. We sent Cole to play with his friends Jack and Reese. We never could have gotten so much done if it hadn't been for that. I spent almost the entire day in the kitchen. Gilbert was wise to spend almost the entire day out of the kitchen. Having so much to do makes me completely grumpy.

The best part of the day was when I pulled a set of bowls off the top shelf that hadn't been touched in a while, and I found chocolate in them! One was a small package of Hershey's Kisses that said, "Happy Valentine's Day!" on the package. I don't remember these from this past Valentine's Day, although that's been eight months ago. What I'm getting at is that they've probably been there a year and eight months. The other was a box of three fancy chocolates--like the Whitman's kind. There was a sticker on the bottom that said, "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Kerrigan! From: Kaitlyn G." Kaitlyn G. was a student of mine more than two years ago.

Now I know what you're all wondering. "How was that the most exciting part of the day?" I'll tell you how. Because I sat down on the floor with my back against the cabinets that I should have been unloading and I ate those chocolates. They were a little hard and discolored, but they were, perhaps, the best chocolates I have ever eaten. I enjoyed them thoroughly.

Following my rendezvous with the chocolates, my day improved. I felt much better, and packing proceeded as it should have. I even allowed Gilbert to join me in the kitchen after that without danger of having his head bitten off.



I told my students today that I'm moving. I wanted to do it a while back, but my principal told me to hold off. I couldn't believe he'd tell me to do that. I really wanted them to know. But the longer I waited, the more I decided to put it off. I had this fear that they would refuse to do anything I asked them to from that point on. Gilbert said I was giving them too much credit, to assume that these sweet, innocent eighth graders would think that way. Yeah. Right.

Some were shocked. Some seemed disappointed. Some were glad, I'm sure. They couldn't believe I hadn't told them yet. The room was filled with questions, most being asked at the same time. How long had I known? Have the other teachers known? Why Indiana? Why now? Will you teach? Do you have a job? You're moving to Indiana, and you don't even have a job? What will happen to us? Who will be here when you leave? Will the substitute be mean? Can we have a party on your last day here? Can we throw away our grammar books? Will there still be write-ups after you leave? Will we have to do on-demand writing when you're gone? By sixth period, I could predict what they were going to ask.

At the end of the day I asked myself a few questions. Should I have told them in September when I wanted to? Was my principal actually right in his advice? Probably so. But, was Gilbert right? Had I given them too much credit? I guess the next eight days will tell.


Making an Effort to Pack

Yuck. It's 8:30 on Wednesday night, and I have a big U-Haul trailer sitting in my driveway, calling me to load it. No, we're not moving yet, but Gilbert's making a trip up to Lafayette tomorrow and he's taking some things with him. Problem is, I have yet to find motivation to box things up at home #1. One thing I do remember about moving is that it is wise to box things up if you want to move them from point A to point B. Herein lies my problem.

Another problem is that home #1 (by this I mean my house here in BG) is about 200 degrees, and on top of that, I feel that I'm suffering from P.M.S. Or maybe I'm going through early menopause and I'm just having hot flashes. Either way, I'm extremely grumpy. I've been this way for the past three days and my poor husband may want to leave me here when he and Cole move. Maybe by then I'll be a little more sane. You are welcome to say a prayer that this will actually happen. The sanity I mean, not that my husband and child will leave without me.

By the way, exactly 2 weeks from today my career at my really great school will be finished. I have mixed emotions about this. More on this topic later, though. I must go help my husband load this crazy trailer...


Finally, a Blog!

Okay, so everyone and her mom has a blog, right? I was starting to feel that anyone who is a good young mother has entered into the world of blogging as a means of bragging about her children. I, however, have fought this idea for as long as I could. I wanted to prove (perhaps only to myself) that I can be a good, proud mother without posting a single blog. The truth is, I have tried so hard to avoid the blogging world that I rarely view my closest friends' blogs, as precious as their children may be. But despite my best attempts, the blogging bug has bitten, and I've joined other moms in an attempt to share my child with the world (or at least with the people who love him.)
My rationale is this: we're moving away from all that is familiar to us. Farther away from family, farther away from the friends that we know so well, and all those who love us are requesting us to keep in touch. There is only one logical solution... You know the one I'm talking about... I must blog. So, over time, my goal is to use this as a way of helping you to watch my sweet boy grow. I am as heartbroken as some of you may be that you won't get to witness this in person. This, as far as I can tell, is the next best thing.
Sharing my boy with you, however, is not my only agenda. I plan to use my blog as a way to invite you into other adventures that I encounter through being a wife, a teacher, and a Christian lady. I hope that it will be interesting, insightful, and amusing for all of us.