For the last few weeks, I've been reading a book called, For Parents Only . It's appeared in my life at an interesting time. This is my fifth year as a middle school teacher, so I've seen first hand the delightful changes adolescence brings on a daily basis. My oldest nephew officially became a teenager this year, and it's been interesting to see these very same changes in him—and listening to my sister's side of things. Shaunti Feldhahn and Lisa Rice have written an amazing book. Don't let the title mislead you. If you live with or work with teenagers, you should read this book. The writers conducted a nationwide survey of teens about their thoughts on everything from rules to rebellion and what's going on inside their head. I enjoyed many of the comments, especially the kids' insights into the way their parents discipline (or don't discipline) effectively. In my classroom, I've since found myself stopping before writing out a detention slip to

Yesterday morning, Alan and I both woke before the alarm rang and stayed under the sheets in that last desperate attempt to squeeze a few more minutes of sleep before the day. He reached over and wrapped his arms around me. This is one of my favorite moments and always shifts my mood. As I lay there, my head swirling with all sorts of gratitude for this wonderful man and the precious quiet, he leaned onto my shoulder and whispered into my ear: "I REALLY need to pee." This is real love.

"What's going on with you today? I should not have to ask you to stop talking more than once." "It's your fault. You put me in a group where you knew I would talk." "Okay, so do you want me to move you out of that group?" "I'm not saying that!" (Slumps down in chair.) "Then what are you saying?" "I'm saying that you knew I would talk in that group and you put me there anyway. I don't know why you did that." "You talk in every group I put you in." "See, you know that. Why did you put me there?" "Okay. So you're gonna talk no matter what if you're in that group?" "Yes." "Okay. So if you're gonna talk in that group, then do you think you need to move out of that group so you don't get in any more trouble?" "I'm not telling you what to do! You're the professional!" "I'm glad you know that." (Suppressing a laugh.)

So far, this school year has been...well, just different. Of course, my mascot has changed, the map is shifted, and my classroom is a much farther walk to the restroom. It's been a rough year. I've made it through some days with only enough energy at the last bell to plop my head on the desk and cry. I've screamed. I've ranted. I've struggled. I've even considered giving up. (Surely, there has to be an easier job. I've had one!) The one thing I had not considered was just being myself. If you *really* know me, then you know that I'm one of the most intense people you will ever meet. I talk with my hands. I talk really fast. My conversations jump around and about. So do my ideas. Get me going on something, and I will wear you out with my thoughts and research and even an anecdote or two. This is usually way too much for most people. (Even my own father has been ended discussions with me!) For much of my life, I have held back that personality. You could s

I woke up Sunday morning in such a grateful mood. The end of Daylight Savings always feels like a special gift. An entire hour to do whatever I want. It's like finding $20 in a coat pocket and being able to spend it without rewriting the budget. I don't think I've ever slept away that hour. I'm more likely to sit on the front porch with my notebook and a cup of coffee. The time change has also affected my drive to work. The only road that goes to my school cuts directly southeast from my house. My drive yesterday can be described in one word. Sucked! I wore sunglasses and sat up as I high as I could to block some of that glorious sun, but I still left 20 minutes earlier this morning. The sun still rose and was perfectly poised to blind me again. However, this morning, I found myself behind a beer truck. This delightful beer truck formed a perfect eclipse between me and the sun. I said out loud, "Thank you, God, for the beer truck." Oh, how I loved that truck t

I found "The Chub" last night. This is a small, thick spiral notebook that I had carried around with me for several weeks last winter and spring. Its sole purpose was to be an immediate reservoir for any brilliant ideas I had during the day. The only thing I ever wrote in there (besides grocery lists and bill schedules) was during my family's reunion-birthday-anniversary cruise last January. My words were interesting, and I clearly remembered writing them on the little boat that took my aunt, sister, and cousin to go snorkeling in the Bahamas. The funny part was that I wrote about how the breeze was making the weariness "seep from my bones". I read it yesterday while I was home from work. That is, after I was sent home for nearly fainting during a class. Apparently, the look of my skin was so bad that my students thought I was pulling a Halloween prank. While driving myself home, I was thinking about the recent events that led me to the afternoon and how embarra