There are many things this summer...

School is finally  over in 5 days. It should have been over weeks ago, but at least, we're down to days.

This was my worst year as a teacher. It was hard, there were tears and many times I rally fantasized about quitting and finding a job that had nothing to do with kids.

One of my students was murdered. I was assaulted by a kid that wasn't even mine.

Done. I am just done with this year.

And now it's summer where I am going to remodel my kitchen and it will be beautiful. The last of the appliances already came and I put up this back splash:

Once the new sink, faucet,counter and cabinets are all up, the entire place is going to look very different. The cabinets now are almost as old as I am and have been painted, red, white and then blue. At one time my kitchen was purple with red cabinets-- I still don't know what those people were thinking.

It will be modern with a touch of vintage, just like the rest of my house. We're also putting up a faux tin ceiling in the kitchen with a fleur de lis design. I'll be very sad when we out grow this house and have to move.

I'm teaching one college class this year and then I get to go to Chicago for my doctoral residency and talk about urban literacy and the visual arts for 5 days. I come home and...turn....30. This birthday has been haunting me all year. there are times where I still feel 16...I'm just not sure how 30 years have happened for me. So crazy!

The real nice part of this summer though? I'll have time even though I'm doing all of this. My class is only 5 weeks and though I am taking two PhD classes, those too will go quickly. In the mean time, I'll be kicking off my summer on June 23rd at about 11am when Phil said he will wake me up with a big glass of pina colada sangria.

Afterwards, you'll find me at the beach with this beauty:

Where the only worry I will have for about a week and a half will be house breaking our puppy.

What Is Found In Grief

There are many things that I have realized and come to except through different periods of my life while I was grieving. My last big bought with it came with the end of my time as a French teacher and coincidentally the end of a rather emotionally abusive relationship. I found art and literature again, and finally finished my masters as I got through it. I also met Phil.

I have written how hard and outright exhausting this year has been, it's just insanity really. My college class that I teach ends next week and upon hearing the news, Phil exclaimed, "oh thank God, I can't wait for this year to be over."

"Have I been then miserable to live with," I asked, half-jokingly.

"Yup, pretty much, but I do still love you," he said.

You can't blame someone who has had the craziest year teaching middle school on top of taking two PhD courses per term AND teaching one of her own English courses at night. There has been a lot of crying this year.

And then, last week tragedy really struck. A former student of mine who was one of my kids-- as teachers you do have students that become closer to you, your kids-- was shot in the head while she was out with her friends and died two days later. The morning of the news of her passing, teachers, including myself were balling their eyes out as we tried to get through the day and teach. It was awful. It was so beyond anything I ever prepared myself for when I became a teacher. Last year, her mother died and she was notified of her passing in my class. I felt completely helpless then, but now, I didn't even know what to say as some of my most challenging students sobbed and clung to me for dear life.

I somehow blindly got through the week and Phil and I got to spend the weekend together which is unheard of because we are on opposite schedules. We went out to lunch on the water and ran errands for the house, stopping at an adoption center for dogs. We were just looking for fun. We had talked about getting another dog because Molly really wants to play with someone and the cats have pretty much told her to f off, so we figured someday we'd be adding another dog. Turns out Saturday was that day. We walked in and saw all kinds of cute dogs, but there was one that the moment we had walked in, came right to the front of the cage and started to try to burrow his way out. He had no interest in anyone else but us and it was weird because even though the place was packed, no one else was even looking at him.

An hour later, he was sitting in my lap snoozing on the way home. We hadn't even gotten to PetSmart yet and Phil looked at me and goes, "Can we call him Behr, but B-E-H-R?"

"Only if we can call him Professor Behr," I add.

"That's perfect!!"

"It is, it's from Little Women-- Jo marries Professor Behr in the end."

"You're a literature nerd."

"Mhhhmm."

And so, Professor Behr, the bichon frise was born. The cats ignore him and so far Molly has been seething jealousy, but at the same time trying to play with him too. And so, this week taught me anything it's to surround yourself with what you love. Plant gardens, paint pictures, plan adventures, raise children and animals. Write and read books, teach classes and do it all with your partner if you are lucky enough to find them. Most importantly, don't let anyone dull your happiness because they're bitter or don't agree with what you've chosen for yourself. Love the life you want because you only get one. Professor Behr, our newest addition, will always be my reminder.

You know you're old when...

You begin to look forward to summer for the simple reason that it means you can breathe.

I can't say that 2016 has been a bad year, but it's been a hard year. Every several years as a teacher, you get a year where you think it can't get anymore bat-shit crazy than it already is, but it does. Those are the worst years. This year is one of those.

I had already told Phil before Christmas that this summer I was not working full-time. I was not going to run a summer camp. I was not going to wait tables. I was just not.

And the good news is that I'm not. I'm teaching one college class and working on my dissertation for my next residency.

This is, end-of-year-teacher-tired.

It's still going to be a lot, but it won't be the insanity that was this year. I am hopeful that next year will be easier and won't have the personal stuff with it all too.

My grandmother is pretty sick and my cat, Jack Nicholson, was just diagnosed with diabetes and a heart murmur. His heart is actually the size of my fist. I've only had him for a year and he had spent much of his life being a NYC tom cat. Scary when I think that when I got him, he had a clean bill of health other than a cold that antibiotics quickly took away. Now, for the rest of his little cat life I will have to give him insulin shots. We have the consult with the vet specialist on Friday and I am not looking forward to this at all. I can get shots, but giving them skeeves me out. Probably one of the big reasons that after Rutgers, I went on for teaching instead of nursing.

 

The guys. Jack & Milo

I think the most unnerving of everything with Jack Nicholson is that when I look at photos of him from before, he's a big, meaty lynx point and now he's a patchy haired skeleton that sits on my feet purring and lays on the floor licking his butt and farting into his own face. There was a time where he was a lot more...err..regal than that.

If you'd like to donate to help with Jack Nicholson's ever-growing vet bill-- I set up a go fund me...here.

To end on a happy note...guys, look at my beautiful bathroom:

 

A Year and 2 Months Later...

I am officially a college professor! It was really shocking to me. I had gotten a call over the holidays from one college that I had applied to. I was very excited, it seemed like it was at last going to happen. On top of that, it was literally 10 minutes from our house so it would be an easy commute. The professor that called me told me to get in touch with the dean and I'd know more then.

I waited a day and emailed her, expressing my excitement. Her response? She'd be reviewing resumes that week and would get back to me. I emailed her to thank her for the response and then...never heard from her again.

I was devastated. 

Fast forward to two weeks ago, after I had a pretty crappy night of feeling uncertain about my life and frustrated over my stalled bathroom wherein I wrote this blog. I went to bed that night pretty much shouting at God about how tired I was of fighting for things and why can't I just ever get something like being the college professor that I always wanted to be without having to constantly burn myself out in the process. It was like a switch went off after I was done shouting at him in my head, and I just felt this overwhelming sense of peace and relief and it was almost like someone was whispering to me, "You're going to get it. Your life is going to be changing."

The next morning, I was sitting at my desk during my prep checking e-mails when another college that I had applied to countless times beginning a month before my actual master's degree was even conferred emailed me asking me if I could come in to interview for a position beginning this month, but that this email wasn't a promise of anything, they just wanted to talk to me. I emailed her right back and by the following morning I had an interview set for after school.

I was incredibly nervous.

It was actually two interviews. One with the person who sets up classes and another with the department chair. At first I felt for sure, it was not going well, but then as she started asking me questions about my wide-range of teaching experiences and we got to talking about them, the conversation changed in a blink and she was showing me my textbooks and introducing me to the dean.

I was probably holding my breath the entire time.

And I still didn't believe this was even reality until last week when all of my HR paperwork and transcripts were in so that I could get my ID and parking permit.

The other strange encounter? Getting the ID. I had to wait in line and a student approached me as I waited and asked me if I knew if we needed out spring schedules to get our spring semester IDs...I laughed on the inside, but before I could even say anything, the ID person told her, "he'd be with her in a minute, he had to help the professor first." It was surreal.

And yes, the ID picture is awful. I look like a warn out man.

But it's mine and my class starts next week. New nervousness.

And also? My bathroom is done. Thanks to plumbing help from my dad and an entire Saturday that I lost to cutting the tiles for it: