Mom's Retirement Gift

Mom has been asked so many times, "How many babies/deliveries do you think you helped with?" It's an impossible questions to answer, but I want to try to put together a slideshow for my mom with pictures of as many children as possible as a surprise for her retirement party in a few weeks.

1. If Jeanne Rosendale was one of your nurses when you gave birth at Mayo/Franciscan, I would LOVE if you could send me a picture of your son or daughter now (private message to Liz Rosendale on facebook or email to rosendal.eliz@gmail.com). If you could, include their first name and current age.
(her image is in this article: shorturl.at/jlozY)

**If it's ok with Mom, I'll have it play at her retirement party, so let me know if you would rather it not be shared**

2. Help me share this!! I want it to be a surprise, so I can't make it public, but share or feel free to copy and paste my words into your own post. If you're friends with Mom, just be sure to select the setting "except Jeanne "

We have until June 18th. Share, share share! She deserves SO MANY thanks for all she's done for others. Help me celebrate her :)

Musings on an Oil Change

I am, admittedly, an insufferable know it all. This is why I teach, love school, and recently became addicted to the app Trivia Crack. However, when I get oil changes, I am forced to admit that, when it comes to cars, I know virtually nothing. (Though, you should know I can explain how an internal combustion engine works, Bernoulli's Principle as it relates to a carburetor, and why some fuels burn more efficiently than others based on molecular structure... Sorry, but you DID read the first sentence and choose to continue reading).

So, I waited anxiously for my oil change today wishing I could be anywhere else. No one likes feeling stupid. When I pulled into the garage, I was somewhat proud of myself for knowing the answers to the basic questions about my car (by referencing my insurance card) and ignored the fact that when the attendant asked if a certain oil was okay, I had zero idea if it was.

He let me know that there was a bench in the attached store, so I carried my backpack in and took a seat. To add insult to my naive-and-out-of-place-phobia, I found that my feet would not reach the ground. Regardless, with my childlike dangling feet, I took out a textbook to study (my formal Educator Effectiveness observation is on Tuesday, and I'd rather not leave any topic under researched).

A bit later, I was informed that I was set to go and got into line hoping that there wouldn't be any further discussion on my car. The man in front of me in line looked directly at me (I assumed he was judging me for staring so intently at the Peanut Butter Lindor truffles next to him on the counter. I was very hungry). After paying, he asked the cashier to wait and rushed over to the garbage can to pick out a receipt (this man is loopy and delaying my exit), then asked the cashier if the old receipt had an oil change special on it. He said, "No, but I can grab you one," and pulled a ripped half-off coupon from a paper bin to hand to the customer.

The customer handed it to me and I thanked him. He replied, "You're welcome. It's always nice to help young people save money."

And I'm taking this to assume that he thought I was a college student. I'm not. And I'm debt free, and since a couple years ago I was pretty accustomed to constantly paying more in tuition than I could earn in a year, I consider myself to be filthy rich at the moment, though that may be open to interpretation.

Anyway, it didn't cost him anything, but the fact that he thought about it, and decided that it wouldn't hurt to waste a few moments scouring a garbage bin to save me ten bucks, was pretty cool. Not exciting enough to write a blog post about it or anything (shit, oops) but nice. Nice enough to make me not hate oil changes for a bit.

Sue pointed out last week that she had to get used to exchanging small talk with strangers when she returned from Guatemala. In Wisconsin, if someone holds the door for you, it's not weird to then briefly discuss that it's a lovely day, or that the wind is particularly strong, or that you have a cute hair clip. I love the community I get to live in!

Musings concluded.

An Open Christmas Letter

It's that time of year for Christmas letters and looking back. I'm not sure I'm a true adult yet, so I wasn't ready to send out a full letter on Christmas statonary. And a photo card would be a little strange with only one face on it. So, instead here's a summary of my year.

Impromptu visit from Dank!

At least this happened in the winter

Last January-March: Cold. So very cold. The best part of these months was having "cold days" off from school, visiting Madison, and finally starting to experience sunlight again as the season ended.

The end of winter included Drumline Olympics

I also gained my very own epi-pen after an evening workout caused a severe poultry reaction. One roommate drove me to the ER (when I was starting to resemble Hitch on shellfish) and the others stopped by to visit their swollen peer. It was one of my first real trips to the ER, so it was very interesting, but an experience I'll try not to repeat.

May brought the end of an era, as our household of six split ways, moving out of our duplex. It was hard to say goodbye to all the fantastic ladies and to life in La Crosse, but I found a great duplex, with two new roommates. And, as luck would have it, since we all still like each other, I get to see the former roommates plenty.

Hot tub on a lake surrounded by volcanoes.
A girl could get used to this.

Our open air residence for a few days.
We even got to enjoy a thunderstorm
from our 2nd floor beds

Making Chocolate

Shortly after the school year ended in June, I flew to Guatemala to visit my marvelous sister with my parents. A chocolate making lesson, volcano hike, Mayan ruin visit, hot waterfall swim, and a VERY long layover in Chicago later I returned a few mosquito bites (and lots of memories) richer.

Remember that time we watched the sun rise over Tikal?

I completed my first 10K in June too!

"Well...this is new!" 

In early July, I found out that I'd be teaching AP Physics and attended a conference, during which I was plagued by a Guatemalan bug bite that wouldn't heal. A week later, Sue and I drove down to Missouri to start a road trip. The evening we arrived, we discovered and removed a now infamous botfly. It was gross and a bit scarring (in both interpretations of the word), but also very intriguing.

 The following day (in an unrelated event) I became really sick and spent a few days in a very nice hospital there. Meanwhile, a cut-out version of me continued on the trip. My parents drove down and brought me back home when the doctors deamed me unlikely to spontaneously combust or transform into a vampire (I think that's what the tests were for?). It wasn't how I would have chosen to spend the weeks, but I was happy to feel healthy again within a couple days and gained a new appreciation for hospital staff.

Fuze and Guillaume visit from France!

August went by far too quickly. I tried to pack in as many social events as possible while preparing to have my life dominated by school again. I was able to end the month feeling significantly more prepared, albeit really nervous for the year.

September was also busy. I worked to keep up with running and participated in a scavenger hunt hosted by Mark Jewlers. At the end of the month. I ran my first half marathon and had a fantastic birthday celebration.

Impromptu Neddjmms night

 

I made it

I celebrated Halloween a bit early this year, participating in my second Beers By Bike Brigade (a La Crosse bike pub crawl event) ride astride a tandem bike, bedecked as Miss Frizzle. I'd highly recommend it.








In November, I got to attend a Badger game in Iowa. We were lucky enough to have a beautiful warm day.

Cookie baking at Grandma's

And that brings us to December. I've been blessed to have my sister in the states for the last two weeks, and I'm still wrapping my head around the idea of her leaving tomorrow. We've had a holiday packed full of family visits, food, friends, and laughter.

Enjoying Rotary lights

All the best parties come with umbrella hats.

Looking back, I've grown a lot in a year. I'm more fit, more confident, and have made many new friends. I am blessed with good health, an amazing family I can visit once a week, my dream job, and some of the most loving and entertaining friends out there. Bring it on 2015.

The house and year may have changed,
but the silly friends have not :)

"A comfort zone is a beautiful place, but nothing ever grows there"

Sometimes we don't get to choose our changes. And 6 months ago, I would tell you that I'd rather not teach AP Physics this year. It's too scary. And I'd tell you that my goal for the summer would be to just focus on my Physical World class so I could feel like a slightly better teacher.

Now, somehow, a whole term of school has ellapsed. That's one term of AP Physics and a full term without my physics unofficial mentor to tell me what comes next, how to present an idea, or where lab supplies are (though he's kindly responded to a few early morning "Where's this?" texts).

Life update:
I'm tired of meetings. I'm sick of paperwork. I haven't the foggiest idea yet how I'll phrase my SLO or get baseline data. I haven't considered by PPG. Furthermore, I've barely started my PDP and need to work on my department SMART goal. I also should examine ELOs to help my EE readiness. And fully realize that I'll need to complete all these things at some point soon because the government says so. I promise I get all that junk and how far behind I am. Count yourself lucky if the alphabet soup sounds foreign.

BUT...
I know my students.
I started a "Question of the Day" last year and felt a little silly about it. Basically, I take attendance by asking each student to respond to a question. Sometimes, they have to pick which they'd rather ride to school (options:unicycle, dinosaur, giraffe, or piggy-back on a zombie), describe their weekend in less than 5 words, or they might have to tell me whether or not they think bullying is a problem at our school and why. Some people pass, and that's okay (the questions can be ridiculous), but I get to hear every single student's voice before even 5 minutes have elapsed every class period. I learn their hobbies, stresses, daily mood, and get a feel for their sense of humor. It's been really helpful in building relationships with the students who are less likely to participate in class discussions or strike up conversations in the lunch line. Maybe it's technically a waste of valuable class time, but I personally gain a tremendous amount from those five minutes three periods a day.

I know my content.
AP is still a stretch, but in Physics I feel like I really know what I'm doing. I know which lessons are coming up and a variety of ways to explain the concepts. I have memorized every useful equation and the products of 9.8 and every integer under 9. My mental math is picking up, and I can whip up practice problems on my own. Feeling smarter is pretty grand.

I LOVE my job.
I was clearly taught that it's bad idea to use sarcasm in the classroom, but my students are fluent in it. It seems silly to ignore a common tongue as long as there is mutual respect. So, my students know that there is a pretty high level of mocking that they can throw my way, and we can also generally use humor to defuse a situation. They are also able to repeat to their peers as needed, "We only use nice words," and "There's no fighting in physics"...this is sometimes extended to no boxing, katanas, climbing...etc. I'm lucky. Serious issues are rare and easily resolved with one on one conversation.  So, we get to have fun.

And I know I have a crazy way to go. The greatest frustration I have is realizing repeatedly that I'm not the best I can be yet. I don't know enough. My differentiation skills are lacking. My answer keys have flaws or are less than ideally organized, I am not sure what the homework will be in two weeks, I haven't integrated inquiry methods into my plans and ... I don't have my DPI mandated paperwork done. And a lot of the time the whole weight just feels like it's about to crush me. I'm not the strongest physics teacher these students could have, and that feels completely awful.

But I'm getting there, and I truly know that I'm in the right profession for me.

Yesterday, another teacher told me that a student said, while discussing my class, "She's a fantastic teacher." That's a big part of what should matter. If great student thinks I'm a great teacher, I'll wear it like a badge of honor and do everything I can to deserve it.

Finishing the First Year and Starting Another

With only a few weeks remaining before students come back to school, it's probably time to write about finishing my first year. I wish I could say that it ended with triumphant glory and an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.

That isn't how it happened though. The last month and a half of school was totally and completely draining. Outside of school, I tried to balance social activities to prevent me from burning out with keeping up with school work and moving into my new house. I also realized (with all the subtlety of being punched in the face) that I needed to amp up my classroom management game before working with pre-summer break students again. All in all, it was just rough. But, I was supported by staff and administration and learned a lot that I'll carry with me into next year. So, with about as much enthusiasm of a zombie sloth, I dragged myself through the last few weeks.

Summer started with a whirlwind of amazing experiences and a two week long trip to visit my sister in Guatemala. Thanks to the time off, I feel like me again, and that's the most refreshing sensation I know.

Upon returning from Guatemala, I learned that my physics coworker won't be returning to the school in September. It was hard news since he was instrumental in my progress (and survival) last year. I relied heavily on his advice, resources, and support. Between reassuring me that the students might not always be right about things, to making copies, to inviting me to question processes and routines, he made me a far better teacher. 

One day, he came into the Physical World classroom behind me and asked, "So, how did the lesson go?"

I turned around to face him taking a deep breath, "Not...great." Perhaps it was not the most informative response, but I didn't cry as I said it, so I was totally counting that sentence as a success.

He said, "Well, I noticed you're standing alone in the room with the lights off," (a detail which had somehow eluded me until being pointed out). He then let me vent, listened, and, when I reached the resolution part of the venting (or maybe it was just the first time I stopped talking long enough for him to say something?), he weighed in. Perfect. Exactly what I needed.

When I was hired, I was taking the place of my favorite chemistry and physics teacher.
The shoes were big.
As Nick leaves this year, I'll be taking on AP Physics.
Big big shoes.

There isn't enough tissue paper in the world to stuff into my predecessors shoes convincingly.

Here's why I'm not paralyzed with fear though. What I lack in classroom management, experience, and prior knowledge, I believe I can make up for with my passion for the content and for the students. Below is an illustration a student drew on the back of her 1st semester final. If this is how I am seen by a student, then I feel pretty accomplished. In addition to outlining important topics (and the dog illustration is a bit of an inside joke), she drew me clearly enjoying my job and teaching students to "BE AWESOME". 

Maybe it doesn't mean that much to everyone, but thanks to John and Hank Green's influence in my life, to me, being awesome encompasses living life as a kind, outspoken, intelligent, open minded, critical thinker. I won't turn every student into a physicist. Not every student will like me. But, if I can help these students grow in a positive way while sharing my passion of physics with them, I'm not failing.

So, it's time to buck up and stop procrastinating. After all, there's only one paper I left hanging on my office's corkboard from last year, and it's hanging to remind me that "It is not the critic who counts." ( Reference Background Here ) Thanks Mr. C :)

The Medical Adventure (a long story)

I’m a wimp. I wont even try to hide it. So, after coming home with a bug bite on my back from Guatemala that would randomly just hurt (a sharp pain), I texted my doctor (she's cool enough to let me do that).  She suggested that if it hurt, I should have it looked at. About a week ago, I went into walk-in. They were able to rule out a few things and prescribe some antibiotic, but that was about it.

It didn’t get better. The pain got a little stronger, the bump underneath got bigger, and the surface refused to heal. So, on Sunday night, I found myself in Missouri with my sister and friend Rachel before our planned road trip. I was putting a warm compress on the bite and asked my sister to look at it. She noted a white part sticking out and showed me a picture on my phone. There's really only one thought that runs through your mind when there's a mass sticking out of your skin. So, despite the pain, I tugged on the white part. I pulled it out, looked, and immediately set it on the t-shirt beside me and made the other girls look at it while I momentarily buried my face in the bed spread (distancing yourself from reality is always a safe course of action).

Ted! (And Rachel)

There, wiggling on the shirt, was a small larvae. The surreal nature of it sent us all into hysterical giggles and occasional heeby-jeeby squeals. Rachel called her dad (an ER doctor), who immediately concluded that there’d been a human botfly in my back. It was a shockingly fast and accurate diagnoses.

Via the all knowing Google, we further learned that mosquitoes can inadvertently carry the eggs and lay them as they bite. It’s pretty unusual…but then, I’m unusual. So, long story short, a fly egg hitched a ride on a mosquito and stowed away in my body as an illegal immigrant to America. We named him Ted and put him in a zip-lock. 

It was a bit of a relief to be rid of the bug going into the evening, knowing we had one relaxing day in town before driving out to start the trip. I planned to get up bright and early to get a run in, but sleep sucked. I was hot, and nauseous, and developed some strong abdominal pain.

I tried to rest up all day, but everything became worse as the day progressed until around 6pm, when we agreed that I should see a doctor. Rachel's mom took on the role of my substitute mom and drove me to urgent care. Much like my actual mother, she knows most medical professionals in the area and is well versed on medical procedures. I originally felt pretty stupid going in for what would undoubtedly turn out to be the stomach flu, but by the time we reached the clinic, it was pretty clear it was more than that.

I was very dehydrated, sick, and in severe pain. But, I'm a wimp, so it's hard to know how much that means. I was not pleasant company. Talking no longer really felt worth it. Completing small tasks just really really hurt. I was given some good drugs for the pain and nausea and Rachel's mom drove to the pharmacist to pick up a bag of fluids. The pharmacist than came in and met her at the door (after hours) to send the saline along. Based on the pain, we were sent to the ER to rule out Appendicitis.

My surrogate super mom stayed until around midnight (when my sister arrived) as I talked to an assortment of nurses, doctors, had a CT scan, and basically just showed off pictures of Ted to anyone who asked. By the time I was taken up to a room for the evening, I was feeling much better (thanks to the meds), and was dead tired.

It did feel better in the morning, but it just wasn't yet. My heart rate was crazy high, my white blood cell count dipped low before sky rocketing, my blood pressure was low, my intestines were still inflated like balloons, and I was quite dehydrated. 

Here's the deal though, I walked into urgent care in pretty rough shape. After three days, I get to walk around feeling close to a million bucks. But then, that might be the steroids talking. So, if I sound overly positive, it's because by contrast to Monday, things are looking up. (Here's my play-by-play). Life is grand.

7pm: Monday: basically holding myself up with the counter, unable to focus or talk much due to pain, etc
9pm: the nausea evaporated and pain is reduced from 8 to 3 or 4 thanks to two shots in the rump.

11pm: We realize that my IV is in the same vein that blood was drawn from as the CT contrast solution makes my arm feel like it's going to burn up

Midnight: I developed a fever and started hoarding blankets (fever is gone in a few hours)

3am Tuesday: Crazy low white blood cell count

Early morning : Sue arrives with my laptop, phone charger, etc. Life is better already

8am Tuesday: high white blood cell count.

10ish: I gain an NG tube and the throat irritation removes most incentive to talk. But my nurse (Nikki) sings my praises for taking it like a champ. No tears, vomiting, etc.
11am: I work with my gown to try to walk around the floor a bit. I look a mess, and both gowns are about 10 sizes too big. But I get to move around...and then get kindly chastised for walking too quickly. Nikki says a doctor said to her, "She weren't walkin. She was runnin!"
Noon: We agree that I wouldn't be joining for at least the first part of the road trip.

8pm: vitals looking up, but I learned I'd be sleeping with the tube (or at least trying)

3 am Wednesday: Paige, the super sweet radiologist, stops in to take an x-ray (kudos to her for bringing the machine up to my room). She's surprised that I'm still here and asks how I'm doing. With tears rolling down my face, I just whisper, "Hurts to talk." Besides the pain waiting in urgent care, this was my worst moment of the whole experience. I mean, she gets it, but I want to thank her for everything, and be friendly, and let her know that my stomach pain is so much better, but after sleeping with the dang tube in, everything just hurts like crazy.

6 am: Blood sugar dropped to 77 (No duh, I'd spent the day having the minimal contents of my stomach removed), so they started regular testing and pushed syrup water (Dextrose 50) into my veins
9:30am: Sue arrives. I'm feeling good. I just.can't.talk. :/

10am: I wont be leaving until Thursday, but blood pressure is regular, white blood cells are stable
11am: New criteria for judging appearance: If you look less crazy than the guy down the hall they keep having to ask to "cover up" and call "Wild Bill", it doesn't matter what your hair is doing. Go walking.
noon-ish: The ladies set out on the road-trip. I'm along in spirit :)

12:15: 3rd IV blows. Nikki says they'll send in the house supervisor rather than risk plucking me a dozen more times
12:20: A young man who looks about 16 walks cautiously and awkwardly into the room. Not sure I want to give him a needle.
12:21: Young man IS 16, and just a volunteer at the hospital. He took AP Chem last year. We talk about the redesign. 

12:40: New IV placed in my hand by actual professional. I'm a happy camper.
2pm: NO MORE TUBE. I literally called out, "Freeeeedom!" when Nikki pulled it out. Quality of life improved 3000%. I can talk and am strapped down to one less thing.
5pm: Clear liquid dinner tastes like heaven.
6:30pm: Parents arrive while I'm strolling the hall like a good girl.
8pm: I get my own vanilla pudding pack like the big girl I am. Vitals are solid


(Best night's sleep eva)

No one told me I was back on solids.
This breakfast felt like winning a new car.

3am and 5am respectively: vitals, and blood drawn. It's the third time it's happened, but the first time I've slept well enough to dislike being woken up for it. Taking that as a good sign.
6am: Potassium is low, so I'll get it via IV, Nikki is very very apologetic because everything going through my veins has been a major pain the the ...well, vein in this case. She explains the injection schedule which runs through 5pm. This is disheartening, as I want to be half way to La Crosse by then
8am: Parents arrive in time to meet the amazing doctors (Dr. Collins and Dr. Jenson (surgeon)). Sounds like I'll be going home after all. We just need to get a few more things moving before hand
10am: Dr. Collins is working through my discharge stuff extremely quickly, and I'm stopped on my walk to have my IV removed and get dressed.
10:30am: I can move my arms enough to do my own hair, put on make-up, and get ready to face the world. I learn that the chaplain has relatives in Cashton...and used to be Amish.

I've learned a couple things from my mini adventure.
First, I was reminded about all the amazing people in the world. I've been helped by emergency substitute parents, been pampered by the real ones who'll drive six hours to take care of me and bring me home, gotten warm wishes from dozens of friends at home, and met an amazingly friendly group of doctors, nurses, radiologists, security officers (seriously, that guy was one cheerful dude), a Chaplin, nutrition specialists, and hospital staff.

Second, I have a profound new respect for people who have to spend time in the hospital for more serious issues or for longer periods of time. The reason I got to feel so grateful all the time was because there was always a very bright light at the end of the tunnel. Each IV prick had to be close to the last and every test showed improvement. But with all the bruising, and blood tests, and restrictions, and crazy complications that arise when we try to take control of a body's normal functions (eating, drinking, digesting, healing, feeling pain, etc) I figured out that being in the hospital sucks. And feeling dependent, and not being able to talk, and hurting, sucks. So, I can't imagine a week long stay or a stay for a more serious issue. Kudos to you who know how much it sucks and somehow deal with it. You're my new heros.

FREE HOSPITAL SWAG! (plus some lozenges and throat spray) :)

"It's just going to be weird"

I hate moving. HATE it. I always develop a severe case of pre-home sickness. I am unable to throw away things like calendars, ticket stubs, and old notes, because I feel like I never want to lose touch with the memories they carry...requiring me to carry even more stuff to a new house. It's awful. However, I've yet to find a 12 step program or Nostalgics Anonymous group to suit my needs.

The summer between high school and college, I occasionally become dizzy and lightheaded just trying to wrap my head around moving to La Crosse. Looking into my dorm room on move out date brought tears to my eyes despite it's jail cell like appearance. Two years ago, I was depressed to move a whopping 10 blocks across campus into a duplex with some amazing girls. I fail to understand it. Each big move has improved my life and led to fantastic memories (so fantastic that I'm reticent to move again). Somehow though, I still turn anxious every time I make a move.

I've moved into my beautiful new duplex in Onalaska. I've yet to completely unpack, but can't complain about the house. It's the largest, newest, and best home I've lived in since college. The shower feels like being caressed by the fingers of angels, the dishwasher is going to save me a lot of strife, my room is large, and I'm once again within a block of Kwiktrip.

Guess who has a garage!?

But I'm not a block from the marsh, campus, or the bluff. I can't run from home to the gym, or Riverside, or downtown, or to the houses of my college friends. And most significantly, I don't live with the same group of women.

A short list of why my "fros" (former-roommates. A term coined by Kara) are amazing:
These girls drove me to the ER and didn't even laugh at my crazy allergic poofy face (much), planned a surprise trip to Chicago, use awesome puns, and made birthday signs. They inspired me to stay active, but didn't judge me when I reached for another cupcake or ate all their leftovers. They watched WAY too much Pitch Perfect and made fun of me when I was clumsy, or got too many parking tickets, or drooled. They took me to Packer games, ski jumps, wine tastings, and HuHot...lots of HuHot. They got me through student teaching, subbing, job interviews, personal drama, and my first year as a science teacher. They kept me in one piece and laughing for two years. They rock my world.

Silly friends are the best friends

I am going to miss living with them tremendously, but plans have been made to see each other frequently and I'm about to start summer. I'm almost not even going to be home for the next two months.  I can be a big girl about moving, and I can let the excitement for summer trips and plans overshadow the usual moving blues. Life is good and it just might continue to get better.

Still lacking in some furniture,
but plenty of comfortable space for grading

I LOVE all the storage and appliances...now we just need a table