She's pregnant.

She's pregnant.

Teachers aren't supposed to have favourites, but we do. One of my favourites is a sparkly, happy and perky girl who marches to her own beat. She's bright, cute as a button, and not afraid to say what's on her mind. She's the kind of kid I wish I could be friends with. Of course, she's way to cool to be in my league...
I knew she wanted a baby, because she told me. She loves her boyfriend (he's NOT one of my favourites) and wants a little person to call her own. Over the course of six months in my classes, she has opened up and shared some very clear thoughts and opinions with the group, as well as in private conversations. I respect her point of view. Like I said, she's a smart girl.
I talked with the kids about teen pregnancy. I showed videos of their peers, trying to dispel the romantic notions. We created budgets, showing the ugly truth about having another being to care for. I talked about lost dreams, childhoods ended, and the importance of education. I sent home my "Babies" for weekends of feeding and diapers. But somehow, I still feel I failed.
When she told me she was pregnant, my heart broke for her. I hugged her, and said she could always come to me for anything, but really I just wanted to shake her.

She's seventeen, barely past being a baby herself, and she's pregnant.

I believe

I read a song like this earlier this week, and loved the format. Unfortunately, I can't remember where I saw it!

I believe...

that sometimes you need bad things to happen, so you can appreciate the good
you can always choose your response to life
that in order to be successful, you must be a little bit selfish
motherhood is not for everyone
if you still haven't found what you're looking for, you aren't looking very hard
rules can be broken
you can't blame your choices on your childhood
a good book can be nourishing
the world does not owe you a thing
elementary school teachers are true saints
some people will never grow up
other people are born old
you are responsible for how other people treat you
hugs are a necessity
it's okay to fail sometimes
my life is perfect.

Leave a comment, telling me what YOU believe.

My baby boy can READ!

I may have talked about this before. Sorry if I'm repeating myself! Suddenly, I understand why people use tags.

We are now officially a household of readers. Boy Terror caught the bug, and he's been buried in a book all week. I knew he could read, he's been sounding out signs all over town, but now he's reading books. BOOKS, people! I love it!
Growing up, I loved reading. It was a great escape from my family, it was a way to see the world, and it was something that I didn't have to share. Because I loved it so much, my mother was against it. I only went to the library when I was staying at my friend's place in the summer. I kept a book hidden under the foot of my bed, until one day she found it, and tore it apart. I still haven't finished Ben Hur. In grade 12, I moved into a dorm, and I still remember the thrill of realizing I could stay up late...past 8:30!...and read!!
I think the best thing a parent can do is encourage a love of books. As a teacher, I can always pick the readers out of the group. They get higher marks. They have a greater vocabulary. The kids who don't read worry me, because I know they are missing out on so much.
He's five, he's cute, and he can READ!!